He Quits

It's been a few days since I was on daily ovulation-inducing drugs in preparation for my egg harvest surgery.  The experience was nothing short of hell.

The most difficult part of the process wasn't the dreaded daily (multiple) self-injections into my belly and thighs, nor the random weight gain (most of which was in my stomach), nor the soreness in injection areas, or the extreme nausea and constant migraines, nor the disruption in my daily routine -- my schedule was no longer mine; at an instant I'd get summoned to the hospital for blood work or an ultra sound and would have to cancel everything to make that hour-long drive (each way!).  The most difficult part of this process was the stress on my marriage!
Yep...the hormones completely stripped away the essence of who I was/am and made me a raging BITCH and he had to put up with every minute of it!

After a long day at work....3rd day in a row pulling a 12-hour work day...he came home, exhausted!  I'd been crying...for no good reason....sending him emails and text messages on how miserable I was feeling at random hours of the day.  I begged him to come home, so he did.

"Anything to eat upstairs?  If not, I'll go pick up some Thai food. I'm starved" he inquired.
"hmmm...there should be leftovers in the fridge"  I added, completely situated in the comfortable position I had assumed on the couch hours earlier.

Minutes later, he came down with a hot plate of leftover food.

"Sooo...you didn't think to make me any?" I snapped
"....you didn't exactly express you were hungry.  You've been home for hours.  Why haven't you eaten?"
"You're sooo insensitive and selfish and don't care about me..."  as I burst into tears.
"Oh goodness!  Here, you eat this, I'll make another plate"
"hmmm...I'm not in the mood for lamb or corn or spinach"
"Would you like me to grill some chicken for you?  Or salmon?
"hmmm.....no, not in the mood for that either"
"Then what do you want?"
"STOP PRESSURING ME!!!!"
"WHY ARE YOU YELLING??? I'm just trying to appease you"
"omg.....you don't understand what I'm going through.  You never have.  If you cared, you wouldn't offer me leftovers.  I'm going through so much right now.  I need someone who'd understand me. You don't"
"....I can't do this right now.  It's been a very long week.  We're out of wine...I'm going to go grab a few bottles, while you calm down".
"...so you're leaving me?  In this very vulnerable time?  I knew it.  You crack under pressure.  No one loves meeeeeeeee"

"WHAT?!!!?   Please stop!  I do love you.  I always have.  Relax.  I'll be back in a few minutes.  Calm down".
"so you're really leaving?  fine!  Go and don't come back.....ever!!!"
"What do you want from me?  I can't win"  ...as he gives in and proceeds to take off his shoes and ditch the whole idea of running out for wine.

"You're not going anymore?  I really want some wine now that you mentioned it"
"WHAT??!?  You're an emotional wreck and I can't deal with it. One minute, it's stay, then it's go.  Which is it babe?  Help me help you!"

I cried myself to sleep that night.  Not exactly sure why.  I felt so misunderstood.  ...or was I?
The hormones were making me sensitive and vulnerable and paranoid and emotional and ....you name it, I felt it!  He didn't stand a chance.  He was in the line of fire just by his mere existence....and couldn't win. This was one of many stupid, intense, emotionally draining arguments....that had no beginning and no end, seemingly.

A few days after my surgery, I seemed to be regaining my normal hormonal balance.  I'm much calmer and happier.  "Welcome back" he said.  We're never going through this process again....I don't think you can handle the pressure....I QUIT!!!

7-11

"Hello?"
"Hiiiii honeyy!  How are you feeling?  Sore?  Good news.  Out of 11 eggs harvested, 8 were mature, and this morning the embryologist advised that 7 of those eggs were fertilized!  I'll call you tomorrow to alert you of their progress and advise what time you'll be coming back for the embryo transfer."

FABULOUS!!!

So the other day, at 8:45am, we arrived at the hospital for surgery check in.
"Consent forms signed?  Living Will on hand? Have you had bad reactions to anesthesia before? Please take off your wedding rings and any other valuable jewelry.  Put these on...lay on the table...spread your legs, and count down from ten, nine, eight, seven......"

"Wake up princess.  All done.  How do you feel?"

Out of 29 follicles and eggs, 11 were harvested during surgery.  8 were mature.  7 were fertilized.  Now we wait to see which of the fertilized eggs begin splitting and progress to blastocysts.  Within a few days, we'll return for an embryo transfer procedure, at which time, we'll decide how many to transfer into the womb, and how many to cryopreserve (freeze for future use).

Secrets...Suicide

A few days ago, I shared with a few people my blog to give them an insight to my struggle and perhaps give a voice to this silent suffering.  Many young women and couples are plagued with infertility issues but seldom share....often because it is such a raw and emotionally taxing process and sharing is just another way to relive the horror.  But mainly because it's a taboo in most cultures....the concept of infertility is misunderstood by most, and many draw inaccurate conclusions as to the reasons -- a curse? a result of a mishap in one's adolescent years? side effects of smoking? drinking? etc.  ALL of those couldn't be further from the truth...
The stigma is unbearable for many, so they end up suffering in silence.

Soon after sharing it, I began receiving a ton of private messages from friends.  Some had no idea my struggles with cancer and chemo 7 years ago and felt left out.  Some appreciated the detailed posts as they had no idea how intense the process was....although they may have known someone who went through the process.  Others wanted to share their personal experience with IVF, that until now, they've told no one (besides close family members, if that).  I was inspired.  Many of the stories were from young African American women in my age group -- to think infertility issues were so rare.

Hey! I hope all is well! I just wanted to reach out to you because I came across your blog link as I was scrolling through Facebook which I rarely do anymore and I see what you're going through and I totally understand and am thinking of you and praying for all the way. I've been through IVF myself which hardly anyone knows but if you ever need support through the process you can feel free to reach out to me. I've done it all seems like, 2 IUIs, 2 fresh IVF, and one frozen IVF cycle so trust me...I know exactly what it's like to be a human pin cushion.

She and I chatted for days on end swapping stories and sharing our experiences.  She's a great girl with a gentle soul, and I wish her the best in her future sessions.   Perhaps we'll have back-to-back baby showers ;)

My dear, you are brave and amazing for sharing your journey. Unlike you, I couldn't go through the fertility process. On January 7th at the age of 32--I had a hysterectomy. My journey is not yours but I say all of this to say--keep fighting for the sisters who can't--that includes me! I have an essay that I have been working on for a while now--maybe one day, when it's all said and done, I will share. Keep fighting honey! You both can do this together. Sending love and light to you and your husband.

This woman is strong and amazing and courageous!  She shared details of her decision with me and we commiserated.  She shared her sorrow and how many tears she shed before finally making the decision.  She's no longer plagued with the pain of bleeding daily...and is much better off.

Hey honey, I wanted to reach out to you after I read your IVF post. I am sorry...I didn't know you had cancer. But hey, I did IVF. No one knows. Not my mom, not my sister....just you now. I just didn't want anyone to judge my husband. I needed to preserve his image.

My heart breaks at the thought of living this horror alone.  It's taxing on one's mental state and on a marriage...not having anyone to confide in has to be that much tougher.  Their beautiful baby just turned one :)

 So the other day, I was doing my normal scrolling and came across your post. I wanted to say I admire your courage to share from a very deep place. It takes real strength as a woman, even as a black woman to share from a private place. That's amazing. You've inspired me to push through the daily stressors in life. To be honest, I have been in very low points in life and the other day, I was having a 'what am I here for' moment. You single-handedly talked me off the edge. Your story made me realize there's nothing that can stop your stride. Again, thank you for sharing....you have no idea how you've saved me.

.... and THAT took the cake!
I received many more inspiring stories and messages and encouragements.  Thanks to all the women who were brave enough to share their stories with me.  Perhaps we can slowly chip away at the stigma and begin building a stronger community and a support system for this silent killer.

Trigger!!!

2pm
"Hello?"
"It'sssss D-DAY!  Your ultrasound shows just enough mature eggs for us to move forward, and your blood test shows your estradiol at 1762 -- it didn't spike as we feared, so you're good to go.  Tonight, you're going to give yourself the two trigger shots -- Lupron and HCG.  Do so precisely at 11pm.  We'll test your blood tomorrow to monitor the effects, then in exactly 35 hours, come in for surgery to harvest your eggs."
"Great...".

That afternoon, I met my girlfriend for lunch to catch up on details from her amazing trip to Barbados.  We chose a nice Indian restaurant near her home. So much catching up to do...we spent hours chatting and eating and snacking and chatting some more.  I had nothing on my schedule...so spending 6+ hours catching up wasn't unusual.  8pm...time to part ways and get ready for the upcoming week.  I was excited but nervous to take the hour-long drive home, and mentally prepare for my last two injections -- the culmination of a long, painful IVF treatment and the beginning of new life hopefully.  I'd have just enough time to get home, pour a glass of wine, prep the injections and chill them in the fridge before 11.   ....or so I thought!

"What's wrong....your headlights aren't on?"
"uhmmm....my car won't start".  I remembered earlier in between snacks, I tried to get into my car to grab my portable phone charger but the remote wouldn't work. I assumed its batteries needed replacement and opened the car with the physical key instead.
"Do you have jumper cables, because I can align my car with yours and jump your battery?"
"Sure".  Finally....a chance to use my Christmas gift....I've had them for 3+ years...they were beginning to collect dust.

"I have never jumped a car before...but have seen it done on TV"  I said to her.
"Oh it's easy...just hook two ends to your battery and two ends to my battery, start both cars together and VIOLA!".

25 minutes later...we were reading the Audi manual trying to locate her car battery.  It wasn't exactly intuitive.

We spent about 1.5 hours on this process.  In that time, 3-4 different families emerging from the Indian restaurant offered to help.  One guy read the manual front to back and insisted the car battery was either in the trunk of the car or under the passenger-side seat.  Bizarre!  Another guy insisted that Audis don't have car batteries, instead moving his car into that spot would serve us better.  We obliged.  Nothing!
Another guy brought his car over and claimed to have been a pro at jumping cars, and that my spark plugs were damaged.  His mother, insisted cars usually don't start when the wheels are crooked (they needed to be turned facing forward before the car can start).  That was my first hearing this new myth!  Others claimed my starter was damaged and battery was perfectly fine.

It seemed not one person in the entire Indian population in Central Jersey knew much about cars.  It was almost 9:30pm and I was getting very nervous.  I wasn't nervous because I'd possibly be without a vehicle for a few days but because I needed to be home precisely at 11pm to inject my trigger shots or the ENTIRE IVF process this cycle would have been in vain.  The trigger shot would cause the follicles to release the mature eggs (ovulate) and the medical team would have to extract the eggs exactly 35 hours later (10am a day and a half later).  I had to do my part, in order for this to work.  Being an hour away from home where the drugs were, didn't help.  I called my husband to alert him of the problem and advised he make the trip to me with drugs in hand.  Meanwhile, our roadside assistance dispatched a mechanic who ...within 20 mins, arrived and successfully started my car.

And the race begins....as my husband was arriving, we were finishing up.  It's 10pm.  We both raced home in our respective cars...made it home in 49 minutes.  Ran upstairs.  Washed hands.  Mixed injections...no need to refrigerate...prep alcohol wipes....wait. 11pm -- pinch skin, wipe with alcohol, stab skin, inject!  11:03pm -- pinch skin, wipe with alcohol, stab and inject #2.

Inhale glass of wine.  Get seconds.

....and a third!