It's Kind of Surreal

Yesterday I had my blood drawn. The first step for me in our journey to have a baby. When I arrived at the blood clinic, I gave my requisitions and she looked up at me and said "woah, this is a lot." At that moment, I felt like I had to explain myself, give some sort of explanation as to why I was having all of these tests done, but instead I just smiled and agreed.

I had 7 vials of blood drawn. She was super chatty at first when she was checking my information but when she began to draw my blood, she stopped talking. I do not like to have my blood taken so talking helps to keep me focused on something else. Well, I was doing my best to focus on anything but I kept thinking about the blood and the vials and how it was coming out of my arm into the vial. It was a little unpleasant and I was happy when it was over. 7 vials of my blood to determine whether there are any underlying conditions and to determine if my hormones are at the levels they should be at.

Even the simple parts of this journey are full of stress and worry.

But it feels surreal that Chris and I are actually doing this. That we have started. We are in this together and doing this together.

Our First Appointment

Our first appointment with our RE went well. He is very nice and took the time to answer our questions, even though the clinic is busy. There are a few steps we need to take first before he can formally refer us to the IVF Funded Cycle. 

We both need to have blood work done and I need to have extra blood work done on day 3 of my cycle. All standard. Another standard at our clinic with IVF is an advanced semen analysis. We cannot be referred into the funded cycle without paying for this first. And finally, I need to have a sonohysterogram, which I am very nervous about. On day one of my next cycle, I need to call the clinic to set that up. 

I am so very grateful that with Chris' new job comes a great insurance package that has a fertility budget for us to use. If this funded cycle does not work, it should cover us enough to do a paid cycle and only pay 80% out of pocket. The funded cycle does not cover medication, but again, I am so grateful for our new benefits. I am also extremely grateful for the funded cycle, I'm just not sure how I feel about the waiting game. IVF and inferitlity is already hard enough on us, having to wait anywhere from 6 months to a year, or longer, seems really unfair. 

Is There No Escape?

You would think that there would be some sort of escape from infertility, but the cold hard truth is there isn't. Lately, I am reminded of it everywhere, including my dreams.

Last night I had a dream when I was 40 weeks pregnant. I remember calling the doctor asking if I would be induced since my last pregnancy with Grayson, he got too big for my body and there were some complications and some pretty scary moments. The doctor agreed and he put me on hold while he tried to schedule me in. While I was on hold, I remember feeling pain in my dream and rubbing my sides as if I was having contractions and I was wondering if this was the start.

Then I woke up. And realized it was all a dream. Part of me wanted to go back to the dream but a bigger part of me wanted to wipe it from my memory because it felt like a cruel joke.

Now that Chris and I are starting our journey together into IVF, I'm sure I will have more dreams that leave me feeling helpless.

The Start

Thursday will mark the start of mine and Chirs' infertility journey. To say I'm nervous is a complete understatement. I'm scared, petrified, shitting bricks, and any other way you want to name it. I'm scared because this is the beginning of many "what ifs."

We originally had an appointment a few months ago before we had any benefits and the RE gave us paperwork to do bloodwork, an advanced semen analysis, and a hysteroscopy. We decided to wait until we had benefits and that's where we are now.

So this is really happening. So this is the start. I've decided that I'm going to document everything. I feel it's something I need to do for myself.

The Question

It has been 5 years since a doctor told me about my infertility. It has been a lot longer since I knew myself about my infertility. I think God gave me the answer long before the doctors did to try and cushion the blow. Kind of like a "you can't hurt me with something that I already know." But it was hard to hear, and hard to have it confirmed, and even harder to live with it day after day after day.

There is not a day that goes by that I am not reminded of my infertility. That I am not reminded that my body is broken. There is not a day that passes that I do not wish that my ovaries could just release my eggs, shoot them down my fallopian tubes, and have them meet sperm, to be fertilized, to create a baby. But no, instead, if I ovulate, my egg just dies off because it can't make it through my blocked tubes.

So when someone asks me when I plan on having another baby, I want to cry. Because if it were my choice, I would be pregnant right now. I wouldn't walk around with pain in my heart every day. I have enough reminders on a daily basis to remind me that my body doesn't work like it should, I don't need the sting of what some may think is a seemingly innocent question. That seemingly innocent question stops me cold, makes my heart beat faster, and makes my mind instantly jump to "stay calm, you can do this, don't cry, just give a short reply and shut this conversation down."

This seemingly innocent question stays with me. Like when I try to have a relaxing bath at the end of the day but end up in a crying fit because of that one stupid question. It leaves me crying in Chris' arms while he tries his best to convince me that everything will be okay. It leaves me heartbroken because I would do anything to be able to get pregnant the old fashioned way.

I just don't want to be asked this question anymore.

It Was Just Too Much

Sometimes its hard to go on social media because there are times when my social media page blows up with baby overload. Like today, for instance, when I couldn't scroll through a feed without seeing that someone is in labour and that it's baby time, and then a picture of a happy family in hospital with their newest addition, and then a picture of a newborn who just went home, and then a pregnancy announcement.

Yes, this just happened to me, all at once.

A pregnancy/baby overload.

And too be honest, it was just too much for me.

The first post I could handle, and maybe the second. But by the time I got to the third and fourth, I needed to stop. Quit. Close. Delete.

It was just too much. Too much all at once.

And now I'm left with the question of "why not me?"

The End from the Beginning

I have been struggling to write this post for days, 8 days to be exact.

Finn, my precious baby, was called to Heaven. Finn's parents told me the news 8 days ago. I was so ill prepared to hear this news. I just kept rereading the words over and over and over again, almost as if I couldn't comprehend them and if I read them just one more time, it would make sense, but it never did. Time just sort of stopped for me in that moment, when my eyes began to water and I couldn't read the words anymore. I replayed all of the events in Finn's life and just couldn't get the beginning to add up to the end. In that moment, a piece of my heart broke to be with Finn. Just because Finn was adopted by another family does not mean that I loved my baby any less. If anything, it means I loved Finn so much that I wanted what was best for him, and unfortunately, I was not able to give him that. But Finn's parents, they were and they did. To quote Finn's mom "I would do it again in a minute even if I knew the outcome from the beginning." That is powerful.

Finn fought to stay. Finn's mom received a positive pregnancy test which is proof that he fought. But God has a plan mapped out for all of us and Finn was called to Heaven. One day, we will all meet again. And one day, my arms will be full.

As for Finn's precious life, I believe there is purpose in his life, his precious life. Though it may have been short, I hope Finn's story can give hope to other families.

Because of Finn, I now know a wonderful family who shares the same values as I do and I have the honour of calling Finn's mom my friend, a friend I will cherish.