take two pills and call me done with mourning
On my blog I haven’t talked about infertility or anything female related since December of last year. I then briefly spoke about being on Yasmin briefly. Yasmin sucked for me. I took it for less than one packet…meaning I never finished the pack. It was the worst, made me sick and I began to bleed with pill #1. In fact I bled the entire time I took 7 pills and then for ten days following it. For me it was the “make thee bleed” pill.
In the following months I ditched my former OB/GYN (could NOT handle sitting in a waiting room full of pregnant teenagers holding 3 kids.) I went to a fertility clinic because at least there I would not be sitting with pregnant women and oddly even if I saw a pregnant woman there I would be ok with it because that pregnant woman would have earned that pregnancy in my mind. At the fertility clinic they are maxed out on the latest technology and they are able to do trans-vaginals in less then five minutes flat in their own offices. This is very convenient for me and my wonky working uterus. Thing is even if no more babies ever occupy my uterus I still need to concern myself with it’s ongoing health because that’s what PCOS does to you. It makes you fear cancer for life in a big way.
In the month of December and January I was put on two medications. One to decrease the high blood pressure that Yasmin also gave me immediately and another to fake my body into having a period every month because I don’t ovulate and therefore there is no period unless we medically make one.
In the past few months I’ve had amazingly perfect periods and have felt better than I have in ten years about my female health.
I have also moved away from all the sadness and mind numbing pain of not being able to reproduce. But…every so often something triggers that feeling and it’s like a knife through me. But even those triggers are fewer and farther between.
The things I have learned to avoid are
Blogs whereby the mother’s bitch about their wonderful children doing nothing but being children.
Women at work who bitch about their children yet keep popping more out.
Pregnant women in grocery stores, bookstores, any public places where I must sit or be for long periods of time. I do not want to hear them complain about pregnancy woes at all!!
Not spending the majority of my time at doctor’s officers and hospitals having my nether regions poked prodded, etc.
Having done this…I am sane. I am ok. I have mostly moved on and forgotten that we ever went down the hell path of infertility treatments at all. The one thing I can’t avoid…..the occasional moments when I say something about “my” son and my husband responds by saying, “yes I know I don’t have any.” I assumed he was ok and beyond things too…but those times show me that he still has moments where it’s hard.
Together as a couple we are better in this place. We can come and go as we please, we’re not struggling to pay for diapers and we’re not emotionally ripped apart taking fertility drugs, etc. That was a nightmare situation.
I’m really ok, minus the fact that I will always have an inability to watch “Baby Story” again.
But every month I happily swallow ten pills for ten days, wait for five days and insert a tampon. That’s a major improvement health wise and I’m happy with it.
