Frustrated Anger Ball? Sometimes.

I am a grown up, so I went to my eye doctor appointment today. See, I made the appointment because I can’t focus on faces at a distance (or the tv, or street signs) and it was getting both annoying and a little creepy. Sure enough, I need glasses. Not to advertise infertility at all, I mentioned the little white pills only because the paper that comes with them notes that one side effect could be blurred vision. Interesting, the doctor said. He googled “little white pills,” found them, and agreed with me that since the effects are rather temporary (even the intended effect of ovulation) that so should any vision impairment be temporary. But, since I had noted earlier that I had completely passed my driver’s license eye exam two or three years ago and then my vision seemed to get worse, he was a little curious. The google search turned up some very specific information about blurred vision on specific cycle days in relation to taking the little white pills and that regular vision should be restored within three days of stopping the pills. Since I had attempted to avoid any awkwardness by stating, “what about the little white pills I take for infertility?” I had thought that perhaps the doctor wouldn’t comment, or at least not comment rudely. He didn’t. He asked me if it was frustrating. And it is. The diagnosis (official or unofficial) of what I can only hope is subfertility, the whole trying and trying and trying to get pregnant through any and all means part, and watching babies, children, and pregnancy come so easily to others. It is frustrating. Thanks for asking.

I think I have received some flack lately in regard to my comments about how easy it is for some people. I know that life is not truly easy for anyone, but what I am actually commenting on are those couples that find the hardest six months of their lives the ones that they were trying to get pregnant. Seriously. Those that feel the need to share with me that they know exactly how I feel because it took them a long time to get pregnant too (four months c’mon!) irritate me. But I have found that there is nothing I can say to shock them out of this way of thinking. Even little comments like “Try two years . . .” (which I realize is still only a drop in the bucket for some who have been on this road far longer than I) don’t work. Some people just need to face that for them, getting pregnant was easy, for them, carrying a baby to term was easy. I mean easy in that THEY DID IT JUST FINE. They never had to wonder about how they were going to get pregnant, whether there was a problem, how much money it would take, and hell, whether it was a fixable problem. Sure they were concerned about miscarriage and other assorted tragedies happening to baby in the womb, but nothing did, and quite frankly, that means that life for them is still very much charmed. They may, sort of, understand what it is that I think, wonder, and am forced to face on a daily basis, if perhaps a very close friend or relative is experiencing something similar. But unless it happens to you (and God forbid it ever does – I wish this mental state on no one), and please mark my words, you will never know. You will never wonder about your legacy the way that I worry about mine and you will never know what it is like to lose a baby or the large majority of your hope. This is probably coming from an ugly place, possibly a very jealous place. I would give a hell of a lot to gain the charm and hopefulness back. Just don’t argue with me about your experience being easy unless you have a real tragedy to bring to the table. Especially if you are currently in a place where you could reach out a touch your child, or walk into the next room and kiss them.

So do not, under any circumstances, tell me:

“You have no idea what it’s like to have kids – just wait.” I can’t even address this civilly, so I won’t try.

“You are so young; you have plenty of time.”

“My husband can get me pregnant by walking into the same room I am in.”

“Want some help?” An offer that comes from a male. Completely undermining my relationship, husband, and knowledge about procreation (really, you have to stick it in to do that?).

“When are you guys going to have kids?”

“What’s wrong with you (or your husband)?” None of your business.

“You can have (borrow) mine.” In reference to their kids. I don’t know how to say this politely, so – I don’t want your kids. And when you think they are acting up or being disagreeable, try to imagine not having them and the huge empty hole that leaves in your life. Then try to not be so eager to “give” them away.

There are so many more, but those are the ideas that are bothering me a lot right now. I also wanted to reiterate that what we are doing with the pills, shots, sonograms, and IUI are great. They are providing us with a boost to our chances. But, they are far from a guarantee of anything (except the hundreds of dollars out of pocket, of which the checks were cashed today – ouch!). There is, in fact, a far greater chance that this cycle will be a very expensive failure. I am aware of this, both through the very nature of the procedure and other circumstantial facts. Perhaps I was too excited in the beginning and got everyone else all excited too. I am back living in the reality of chances and while deep down I believe that the odds have to flip every once in awhile, I don’t think that now is the time. But I could be wrong. I have been wrong before. Regardless, and due to my little faith and much smaller basket of hope, IUI #2 is tentatively planned for next cycle.