Gym Clothes I Want

fitbitsnapshotSince I’m on a financially forced fertility treatment break, I’ve promised myself to go back to the gym. The biggest motivator behind this being that if I am possibly going to spend upwards of $10,000 to have a baby, I will do everything I can to be in the best place I possibly can be health wise. I’ve already started a lot of that. I’ve quit smoking and I’m taking my prescriptions and vitamins daily. Now it’s the harder things. Watching what I eat and the gym. My goal right now is just to not eat out as frequently (2 birds, 1 stone with this one. Save money and lose weight) and try to make it to the gym every day. Or at least get in 10,000 steps. Realistically I know I won’t make it every day, but I can try.

Anyway, because of this I’ve been looking at actually purchasing some gym clothes. Mainly because yoga pants suck for the elliptical, and my crappy cheap shoes make my feet burn about 20 minutes in. So far this is the list I have:

  1. Old Navy Compression Capri’s¬†or these, or both!
  2. Active Drapey Top. Perfect for walking into the gym and when leaving.
  3. Racerback Tank
  4. Compression Tank
  5. RUNNING SHOES! Either of these 4 pairs: Brooks, Mizuno, Asics, or Nike. My issue is my feet are super wide and I have a high arch, so it limits my options.

Anything I’m leaving out? My first 2 must have’s right now are pants and shoes. Everything else can wait. But feet burning and pants falling down make it really hard to keep moving on the elliptical the way I want.

 

I Made a Promise

I made a promise to Bill. Which also sort of fulfills the challenge that Cory Miller posed to us at WordCamp Dayton earlier this month…

That promise is to push publish.

I made the promise to Bill so that I could bring home my sexy new phone, the Lumia 1020. I also made the promise to myself because I have become pretty lazy about updating here. It isn’t as if I don’t want to, I’m just scared.

Scared of what is the better question. Maybe failing myself? Opening some Pandora’s box I don’t want to look in. I’m not really sure.

The one thing I do know? I need to push publish more. Now I’ve promised someone besides myself I will.

This also means lots and lots of pictures…

1st Self Injection

So, I’m a really big pansy when it comes to needles at this point. I was never a huge fan to begin with, but ever since I started this infertility treatment journey it has gotten progressively worse. It’s so bad at this point, thanks to the ectopic fiasco, that when I am having more than 1 vial of blood drawn, I have to lie down because I have a psychosomatic response that makes me pass out if I’m sitting up.

So, needless to say, I was not excited about the idea of having to give myself an injection. Especially one that I know will cause cramping, nausea, bloating, etc within a few hours. Because, you know, forced ovulation is fun!

Anyway. I got the go ahead this week after being benched each month since August for my first IUI. This means I had to use this scary $125 needle that’s been sitting in my fridge since October:

Ovidrel Trigger Shot

When this is truly how that needle feels to me staring at it:

Trigger Time

So there I am, getting nauseous, staring at myself in the mirror when I finally manned up and did it. I was somewhat let down by the fact that not only did I not really feel it, it hurt less than my stupid allergy/sinus shot I get once a year.

How anti-climactic can you get.

So, while I obviously hope I become one of those 10% of women that IUI works for, at least I know these things for IVF going forward:

  • I can give myself an injection
  • It doesn’t hurt as much as I think it will
  • Even if it does, I can do it without passing out or wimping out

 

This Is Why It Hurts

f26e0d09c9091e9d43a19917b048bc47So many of the pains of infertility are untouchable to the fertile world. They just simply can’t understand the pain it causes you to try for months on end to only fail. We’re all taught that sex=babies, and when that doesn’t happen, you can’t help but feel broken. But there are alot of other reasons it makes you feel broken.

  • You’re told you don’t know what love is until you have a child.
  • You’re told your marriage isn’t as deep until you have a child.
  • You’re less dependable until you have a child.
  • You’re less of a woman until you have a child.
  • You’re obviously selfish until you have a child.

Then we get things thrown back in our faces like:

  • You don’t understand the stress of children.
  • You don’t know tired until children.
  • You don’t know responsibility until children.
  • You have so much “free time”.

But here’s the thing. An infertile couple? We do know tired. We do know responsibility. Our marriages do become deeper because of the pain we must carry together. And free time? Money? Throw those out the window because we are pumping thousands of dollars a month into the hope of getting a baby.

Do several monthly vaginal ultrasounds at 6 am sound pleasant? What about injecting yourself with massive doses of hormones? What about no sex for 2 weeks because you are using suppositories that make you feel pregnant and you can’t run the risk of interfering with getting pregnant?

You think some of that might make someone tired? Or angry? Imagine feeling pregnant for 2 weeks out of every month only for it to fail miserably and not be true.

Now try doing it in secret because everyone around you thinks it’s okay to ask “How things are going” and give their obviously sage words of advice like “Just relax” or “Trying is the fun part, right”.

Yes. Because my husband jacking off in a cup and me laying naked from the waist down in a doctors office while I am inseminated is definitely my idea of a good time and doesn’t kill the romance at all, right? I forgot to relax for the first 4 years we were trying for a baby, thanks!

And this is all just the tip of the iceberg. I don’t think I could efficiently put into words the pain you go through every single month when your period comes. To know you are basically bleeding away hundreds, if not thousands of dollars and all of your hopes and dreams. It really truly does kill a small part of you everytime it happens. Now imagine sitting at month 84. Welcome to my world.

Good Riddance 2013

Overall, 2013 has been a horrible year, and I’d be lying if I tried to say I’m sad to see it go. This is the year I:

Had to make the decision to surgically remove my only baby from my body, while also losing one of my fallopian tubes.

Endured countless tests only to be told no one knows why I can’t get pregnant after 7 total years trying.

Had a nervous breakdown that forced me to take 2 and a half weeks of unpaid leave from work for intensive counseling.

Then, to cap off this shit year, my cousin dies in a horrific accident on Christmas eve.

So yeah. This year has been shit. Here’s to hoping 2014 is better.