Candace: We are preparing for the approaching storm. Although ominous, scary, and unpredictable at times, we feel confident we are ready to bear anything it sends our way. BRING.IT.ON. For our first IVF, not only did we not tell a soul, but it was a deer in headlights moment that lasted a whole month and a half. The doctors give you orders, you follow them no questions asked and you feel much like a weird science experiment. But surprise! The experiment is on your hormones and your body. The worst part is at that point I hadn’t yet discovered the wonderful world of support groups. So the weird side effects, raging fury that emanated from my hormones, and the utter feeling of being alone, there was no one we could really reach out to or get support from. IVF is an enormous life altering event. The feeling of being supported through this process is almost unheard of for those infertile couples. 1. You don’t talk about it to anyone, it is too taboo. 2. When you become open about about it, people ask you all of the awesome questions mentioned from our blog “Tasty Sneakers” or they simply think you are insane.
This IVF round is much different, we are ready. We know what winds, lightning, and floods to expect. We don’t feel isolated. I mean don’t get me wrong, people still think we are absolutely insane, but at least we don’t have this secret weighing on us. We have started to prepare for the storm.
Chris: For those that have been through an IVF round before, tell me if you get this feeling also. In the morning, when I am getting ready to administer the morning’s cocktail of medicines to Candace, I amost feel like saying “Nurse scalpal.” How terrifying is it that you sit in an office and someone at the fertility clinic says, “open this, puncture that, twist this, then just simply give her the shot.” Well, now that you told me that, I’m all set to possibly give my wife medicine the wrong way inside her body no less! With that little training though, we managed to get through our first round of fresh IVF and 3 FETs. We had a few bleeders and some tense moments with unusual burning feelings at the injection point. But, I’m happy to report Candace is still alive and kicking.
Now, I am ready. I have two full-sized coffee canisters of used syringe that can attest to that. Candace and I recently cleared the table that I will be using to play doctor for the next several weekds. Get ready for alcohol wipes, silly bandaids, and false counts to 3. As scary as it is though, marching towards our retrieval and implantation days still gives us a great sense of accomplishment. So, to echo Candace – BRING.IT.ON.
