Recent research has shown that the stress levels of women
with infertility are on par with women with heart disease, cancer and AIDS.
I liken the feelings of being infertile to those of losing a
loved one. For some time after a loved one dies, you wake up in the morning and
for a split second, everything is ok. You don’t remember that you no longer
have that person in your life, but then it all comes flooding back and although
you get out of bed and continue with your life, you are constantly carrying
this burden of loss in your heart. You
are reminded of that person throughout each day and you mourn them.
Because I have experienced both, I can say with certainty
that being infertile carries a lot of the same emotions. I wake in the morning
and have a blissful moment in which I do not think about the fact that my body
has betrayed me. When the realization
comes rushing back, sometimes it’s like a brick wall and other times it is just
a constant nagging feeling. Some days I don’t think about it too much but then I will see a show on TV or a
Facebook post about a happy family and it will remind me that I can’t have
that. When you are infertile you are mourning the loss of a dream and coping
with the fact that you are unable to procreate.
For me, seeing pregnant women or hearing pregnancy announcements,
does not make me angry. There is a misconception that infertile women are bitter and angry regarding other women's pregnancies. I am not mad at anyone else for getting pregnant. On
the contrary, I am so happy for them and especially happy for those that are
able to do so without medical intervention because I wouldn't wish infertility and treatment on my
worst enemy. I am jealous of their joy though. I am jealous that they get to experience
the joy of motherhood – that overwhelming love that no one can quite explain,
that only a parent can understand. I am jealous that I may never get to
experience that.
Add to those emotions the stress of multiple doctor visits a
month and it is stressful and overwhelming. Most people go to the doctor once a
year, maybe a few more times if they get the flu or a terrible cold. I go at
least twice a month. And these aren’t the kind of appointments in which you
just sit on the table and talk to the doc. Twice a month (at least) women going
through treatment have a date with Mr. Transvaginal ultrasound wand. Let’s just
say it requires that you undress from the waist down and leave it at that. The
best is when the small group in the exam room multiplies because I happen to go
to a clinic that is associated with a medical university. You know what that
means? You guessed it: INTERNS! And third year interns need experience, so occasionally
the doctor will ask if I mind if the intern conducts the exam. This is always
fun because it’s like they are playing pin the tail on the donkey. Like blindfolded, dizzy children, they spend
half the exam just poking around trying to figure out what they are looking for
and the other half commenting on how they’ve “never seen to many cysts,” or “the
amount of scar tissue is unbelievable.”
The poking doesn’t just stop at the doctor’s office. There are
medications you have to administer to yourself, at home. When I was first told
I would be giving myself injections, I thought, “You’re going to trust me with needles?” It was almost
laughable. And terrifying. The first time I gave myself an injection it took a
half hour before I could get up the nerve to do it. When I finally injected
myself, I was so surprised by the sharp pinch, I pulled the needle out before
injecting the medication and had to re-inject myself! Oops!
Then there is the stress the financial impact of pursuing
treatment has on your life. I find myself feeling guilty for any extras in
life. Want a candy bar? Nope. We need to save the money for IVF. How about
taking a drive to the bay to go see your nieces play softball? Nope, we need to
save the money for gas to drive three hours (each time) for doctor appointments
instead. How about stopping for lunch to break up the drive back from the
Fertility Clinic? Nope, that money we spend at Taco Bell could go towards
treatment. It is difficult to not allow your life to revolve around your
infertility diagnosis when everything you would like to do has to be scrapped
so you can save money to pursue medical treatment.
With other diseases, you are diagnosed and you seek
treatment. The disease and treatment alone are overwhelming but insurance
covers a large majority of the costs of the procedures and medications. Now
imagine being diagnosed with a disease but in order to seek treatment you have
to come up with all of the money to pay for it. The Affordable Care Act
certainly doesn’t cover it. Private insurance won’t either.
While there are loans for infertility treatment available, the interest rates are incredibly high. Just the idea of applying for a loan is daunting. You find yourself thinking, if I get a loan that I have to make payments on for two or three or four years, what will I be depriving my future child of in order to be able to make the loan payments? How will I pay for their needs and contribute to a college fund and pay for the loan I had to take just to be able to get my body to work properly so I could have the child in the first place? Instead of just the normal financial concerns of how to afford having children, you have to add the amount of money you have to spend just have the chance to have a child.
And then there is the “Two Week Wait” this is that horrible
time between the procedure (be it IUI or IVF) and when your monthly visitor
should arrive. It is a time when you can do absolutely nothing but wait, second
guess, pray and live your life as if you are pregnant, just in case you are
because you certainly don’t want to drink, eat lunch meat or exercise too
strenuously and do anything that could hurt that little bean that could
potentially be inside you. If you do eat lunch meat or sushi or exercise too
much and the cycle fails, you will forever wonder if it was because of that
piece of salami you popped in your mouth at midnight the night after your IUI.
Is there a medical reason to prove that that could have been the cause?
Absolutely not. Does it matter? Absolutely not.
Sound crazy? Yup. And it is, but that’s what it comes down to when you
are infertile, second guessing every move you make in your everyday life and
wondering what you could do differently to change the fact that you cannot get
pregnant.
Sometimes it gets to be too much but at those times you just
have to remind yourself what’s a stake. If you don’t at least try, you don’t
have the possibility of one day holding a child of your own in your arms. For
every disappointment, there is that hope and it is that hope that keeps me
going. If all the doctor visits and money spent and depression and craziness
and despair means that I will someday hold my own tiny human, I’d do it a
thousand times and then a thousand times again. For our child, I’ll move
mountains.
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