Infertility Anonymous: A Journal

Well, it was a good run. I’m honestly shocked that it’s been three weeks since my last post. And while I would love to say it was because I was doing and feeling amazing, that would be a humongous lie-and I hate lying. In reality, I was completely and utterly overwhelmed by so many things. First and foremost, my parents came back to town and then it was a brunch with the family and then it was my mother’s birthday and then it was mother’s day and everything felt super fucked up. But before getting into all of that…

I had my lovely HSG test. The one where they stick a catheter up your cervix and inject your uterus and fallopian tubes with dye. I was prepared for it suck. Did the doctor try to tell me I couldn’t get it done because they like to do it five days post period? Yes. Did I tell the doctor (politely) that I’m here because I don’t get my periods? Also yes. So she did her thing. I cried when she told me everything looked good, and I put on my adult diaper and left.

Then, my husband and I had our panels done AND our genetic testing sent out and your girl hates getting her blood taken. Is anyone else freaked out at the idea of something literally draining your insides? Like, leave my bag of flesh alone. But-we did it. I did it. And I was extremely proud of myself. My husband got to watch porn and “collect his sample” in a tiny cup and send it out to some stranger. And I appreciate that stranger because they sent back the results and my husband now refers to his sperm as “super sperm”. A win for all of us. So now we enter the realm where things went sideways.

To say I have a relationship with my parents feels like a lie. It’s unfortunate to acknowledge it in writing but if my parents passed on to their next lives tomorrow I don’t know if I would be more sad or relieved. It sounds terrible. I realize that. But I also know that it’s my truth. See, back when my husband and I were dating my parents decided they hated him. And in order to get that point across they took it out on me. Every phone conversation was about how much they hated him, not about how much he made me happy. They cut me out of family visits, celebrations, and ultimately I wasn’t even sure if they were coming to our wedding. I kind of would have preferred it if they did not. Family life was pretty terrible for 4 years, but I had my boyfriend turned fiance turned husband and I am so incredibly grateful for that. I am also incredibly proud that I didn’t listen to them. So many times in my life I have listened to them. Jokes on them because now that guy they hated so much will be the father of my children (hopefully, praying, wishing, paying etsy witches…you get it). And that feels kind of awesome. Liberating even. Truthfully those 4 years of torture were worth it. They showed me what I had been blind to my entire life. I must admit it did take many, many sessions of therapy to get here. I’m not THAT strong-but I’m here.

So let’s jump to the current situation. We are going to be starting treatment in the next couple of months. I have not shared details of this with my mother, father or sister. However, I have let some clues slip to my mother. I mean, at the end of the day…she is my mom. But every single time I open up she ends up saying something infuriating. Today it was about PCOS and how they’re renaming it PMOS. She sent me an article, I sent something back along the lines of “thank you for sharing. I’m glad they’re acknowledging that the name is misleading. Hopefully they’ll begin addressing PMOS earlier in a woman’s life, not just when it causes infertility.” And her response? “many women have this condition, kiddo”. Was this rage inducing? Yes. Did I cry? YES. I am a crier-yay. But like, read the room, woman! Are you trying to be supportive or are you trying to make me feel like it’s no biggie? Like, SHUT UP.

So, for three weeks I was quiet. But one text from my mother causes a landslide of emotions. I acknowledged everything I’ve been through these past three weeks, I am glad to report none of that felt like it broke me. Not even close actually. But that dumb, stupid, fucking text from my mother broke me thus I wrote this very long, perhaps jumbled and confusing entry. I guess it needed to come out. Fuck unsupportive parents.