Wednesday, June 12, 2013
I Should B explaining part 1
Recently I read a blog where the author mentioned she had only been trying for a few months and felt like she could not "fit in" with those women that have been ttc with IF for years.
I offered up advice that there was no one mold that each person had to fit in. That we are happy to pass on our experiences in hopes that it makes the next persons journey just a little easier.
After posting that I realized something.
I have never explained/shared my IF journey.
To most people it only seems like we have only been trying for 6 months. This is both true and untrue.
I will do my best to explain.
THIS WILL BE A LONG POST. Maybe two posts ... Maybe three
This is not easy to share.
This will be that hardest thing I've ever written and shared.
In 2006 I started dating a man. Let's call him Bob (not even close to his real name). Bob and I dated for a year before deciding to move in together. At that time in my life I did not want children. I was happily taking BCP. The relationship that Bob and I had was mostly full of good days. One day in 2008 we had a very bad day. I will spare you the awful details but it ended in a phone call to 911for I feared my life. I did not look my best after that day. I always swore I would never allow a man to lay a hand on me since I grew up in an abusive household. I told Bob we were over. I asked him to move out of our place. Watching him leave was heart breaking. About three hours after he left I wanted him back. There were more good days than bad. One lapse should not end all the good years we had together. He promised to never let it happen again and I let him move home. It was almost a year before it did happen again. I convinced myself that twice in three years really isn't too bad. In the house I grew up in it was a daily occurrence. After that episode I got it into my head that kids would solve the problem (I know! Stupid!). So I stopped my BCP and told Bob it was because they made me gain weight. He agreed I should lose weight as I was "getting too fat to love" ( yes he really said that). A few months later we decided that marriage would bind us together and any insecurities that either of us had would be gone once it happened. There was no fancy proposal. Our families were over the moon excited. Neither of them knew the real kind of relationship we had. If I shared it then it meant it was real. I just "knew" that marriage and a baby would fix everything. Then I would have the perfect life.
In 2010 we got married. By that point the episodes (no idea why i think this is a good term for abuse) had escalated with the added stress of a wedding. I just "knew" it would get better once the wedding was over because we would not be stressed.
We were "lucky"enough to get pregnant just after the honeymoon. He never really wanted kids but was happy about it. There were no episodes. The verbal abuse was at its worse (fat, useless, unattractive) but it wasn't physical so that was "ok". I miscarried the baby at approximately ten weeks. I was alone in the bathroom when it happened. It was and is the worst experience i have ever lived through.
At the insistence of my mother I went to the doctor to make sure I was ok.
Turns out I wasn't
I needed a D & C.
I did not want one and opted for medicine instead.
I had a follow up appointment and that is when it all hit the fan.
I had PCOS (after bloodwork and ultrasounds). I was handed a pamphlet and a referral to an RE and sent on my way.
I was in shock!
Bob was at the appointment and didn't know what to think. Then after more research we figured it out. We were lucky to even get pregnant that first time. PCOS is not pretty. But I was optimistic that with an RE we would get pregnant in a few months. We did all the tests he was fine and I was the problem.
It was my fault.
This did not have a positive effect on the episodes and their frequency.
The more we saw the RE the more the episodes tore me emotionally apart. I "knew" it was just the stress of ttc he really didn't mean it.
He didn't mean it when he began sleeping with someone ten years younger than me. He told me he needed to have sex that isn't planned and just fun. I "understood" and let it be. After all if I got a baby then I don't care. A baby would never hurt me like Bob. A baby was my light at the end of this dark tunnel.
I took metformin. It started to regulate my cycles. I took clomid and I ovulated. I had an HCG (the dye that checks your tubes) and it came back normal. I expressed to my RE that "we" wanted a baby now. So aggressive measures were okay. A lap was planned to do ovarian drilling and check for endometriosis.
During all this Bob and I were only having sex maybe twice a cycle and only when I begged. The stress of the money and treatments and miscarriage were piling up.
I was an emotional wreck.
The day of the lap I was nervous as it was my first surgery. Bob had been extra nice and sweet that week so I "knew" we would overcome IF and come out on top.
That concludes part one of this story.
At this point it has been 9 months of dealing with an RE and all that entails.
Posted by Heather S. @ I Should B ... at 3:34 PM