Personal post about my infertility experience… you have been warned.
There is a very slim chance that we could be pregnant. I never understood why people talked about being pregnant in plural, because only the woman is ever pregnant. Like really what does the man have to do with it? Now having worked at it consciously for the last two years, let’s face it ladies – we don’t get pregnant alone. A partner, friend, chum, husband, sperm donor , sometimes all bundled in one is what it takes to get us there.
In my case, the husband has been not just the voice of reason, an anchor, my support system through some very hormonal days , my friend when I managed to alienate others, my partner in crime, my chaperon at every doctor’s visit, but my man, my love, my life.
So when we were faced with signing consents f0r the potential IVF, I was a little thrown off by what each of thinks is an obvious choice. For e.g. in the event we separate from each other in the next year, my husband thought the fertilized embryos should automatically go to me. Why? Don’t you want them? Or in the event we both died, he thinks the embryos should go to my mom. I wanted to nominated my very single 38 year old friend who I have known for the last 15+ years. I felt like she knows me best and she would be the best person to raise my child, as who else could tell my child about me, like only she knows. I thought it was a mutually beneficial decision. I guess there is practicality and then there is practicality. Also if we were to both die, I don’t really think it matters what would happen to those embryos.
How much can we really plan for right? So here I am eagerly awaiting the next blood test, ready to plunge into the next phase of this journey and wondering how much do I really know anything any more?
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If I asked my 23 year old self, I would have said that I have a lot of time, medical science has advanced so much that the biological clock was a matter of old folks tales. There are plenty of stories of women in their 40’s getting pregnant. That holds true now more than then. What no one tells you is the costs of getting pregnant so late in life. I am not even alluding to money. After all, who puts a price tag on a child. The costs are more in terms of time, emotions and physical struggle. By the time a woman is in her 30’s the responsibilities, stress, commitments she has is way more than one anticipates in their 20’s. So here I am into my late 30’s wondering if I would fail in the one superpower I was born with?
The presidential electoral candidates in the United States has me worried. The country being largely divided into two groups it is difficult to agree with all the principles of one party over the other. Each party brings in good ideas with some very bad ones. Of course people vote for the party and not an individual, but don’t individuals matter? Right now all I see is a bunch of clowns. Or has Obama really set the bar that high?
Being the doctor, I am a go to person for a lot of people. I consider it a privilege that people would trust me with their most intimate fears. Come to me for a second opinion, an idea they want to run by, just to voice their concerns, or just use my being a doctor as an excuse to speak with me. When I have my doctor hat on, I am always happy to be of service. So when I get push back on the healthy living articles I forward to family and friends, or when people tell me to “chill” when I remind them that they should get their yearly medical check-ups, I am left wondering at the irony at the situation.
Please don’t kill my blog. I appreciate the fact that there are people who read my blog. Some of you that do, reached out to me via emails/texts/instagram asking me if I was okay based on my last post. However well meaning you were, I really would have preferred comments here which is why I didn’t encourage conversations on other mediums. I write a post, to generate conversation here. If I wanted to reach out to you in person, I would have. Imagine how many more people we could have reached if we talked about things here. Blogging begets comments on blog. A blogger can hope.
On the most positive note, I was invited to join the swimming master’s class this week. I have been wanting to get to that level for a while now, but don’t think I am ready. My old swim coach mentioned that he will work at my level and get me to speed. I cannot wait. Needless to say I am excited like a school girl and giddy with happiness at the prospect of working with my old coach after 18 months.
What is making you excited and happy or sad and confused? Have a great weekend you all.
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