Writing Again

It’s been over a month since I last wrote anything on this blog.

There are several reasons for that. I’ve been really busy and preoccupied with a lot of other things not related to my fertility issue. In a way, this is good. Instead of wringing my hands and worrying about every little thing about the fertility treatment, I have put my time, effort and emotion into worthwhile projects. Since the unsuccessful superovulation process last September and the IUI had to be cancelled, I have been in a sort of “fallow” period. I had a hysteroscopy done at the clinic last week and I have started on the Estrace tablets several days ago. The more involved processes of IVF will begin later in the month for me. So my mind has been free to wander and dwell on other things. This break has been great for me and my psyche. To gather my strength for the long haul coming up, to recharge my batteries so to speak.

The other reason why I haven’t written is that I hate writing. I know, I know. This might surprise you since here I am writing. I read somewhere about a famous writer once saying that she (or he) hates the process writing but absolutely love the feeling of having written. I am not famous; nor do I really consider myself a writer but I definitely share the sentiment of this person. I have always had real challenges starting essays, reports, term papers in school.  This is not limited to academic paper. I feel the same with creative writing stuff like stories or poetry. I have to push myself – hard – to just sit down and type away. To just express ideas, thread words and sentences together and not mind the critical voice editing words I have not even said yet. But I do love the feeling of having written, especially something that is meaningful and relevant to me. It makes me feel happy, like I have accomplished something.

I can also be obsessed with expressing things in a certain way. I am continuing to learn that sometimes it’s much easier to let my stories, thoughts and ideas unravel in an organic way. To not necessarily stick to the outlines I have crafted. To let emotions unfold naturally without striving to be wise and witty or snarky and bitchy or funny and hilarious ALL the time.

So in the next few hours (or maybe days or weeks!), I hope to explore my thoughts and feelings on “coming out” of the infertility closet, the perspective of the Catholic Church on IVF, and the people who have supported and nourished me in this journey.

Ovary goes AWOL

“You’re right ovary is hiding from me.”

Dr. K announced as she waved the (ultrasound) wand inside my uterus. Great, I thought. My right ovary had decided to play hide-and-seek! Dr. K was conducting a transvaginal ultrasound so we’ll know how many egg follicles are developing in my ovaries. After a couple of minutes, we knew that my right ovary had about 2 little egg follicles and my left had about 5 good-sized egg follicles. This would have been good news except that my left fallopian tube is blocked. Perfect. Just perfect. Rotten eggs. Rotten, rotten eggs. Rotten luck.

Sometime early this year and together with our fertility doctor (Dr. T), hubby and I have decided on the superovulation/IUI fertility treatment. Five days before the ultrasound, we had started on the superovulation part of the treatment. This meant injecting myself daily (supposedly for about ten days) with a low dose (150 IU) of Puregon to stimulate the growth of egg follicles. Since there is very little or no possibility that the 5 good-sized egg follicles in my left ovary will migrate to my right fallopian tube anytime soon, Dr. K recommended we cancel the cycle at this point and not proceed with the IUI.  

Dr. K and Nurse J were pretty sympathetic. Hubby felt very disappointed but I. was. OKAY. Or seemed to be. “At least, we know how my female plumbing system is doing. We’re learning more and more as we proceed with this,” I said like a peppy leader in an election campaign.

It was a different story when we got home. I crumpled on the couch, feeling very sad and angry with my rotten luck. But mostly I felt sadness, deep sadness that hubby and I are getting farther away from having the child that we wanted.