The hardest thing you will ever have to do it admit defeat.
Friday morning I woke with my period. I picked up the phone and called the clinic to report my day one of this cycle. July was another unsuccessful month for us. I was not hurting. I had expected as much. I left a message on a machine with my cycle day, name and call back number.
I got up, showered and prepared for work.
The nurse called back, set up my treatment plan for the next week or so. Scheduled my pick up from the pharmacy and forwarded them my treatment plan. My first set of bloodwork is on July 31st along with an ultrasound.
IUI is a treatment for many couples that may help get past the barriers preventing a successful fertilization. They suggest it for less severe cases and in many instances, young couples with unexplained infertility. I am placed on a drug treatment plan to aid my body in producing up to 4 healthy eggs and they medically inseminate me. This bypasses most of the struggles men have with their sperm making it through the obstacle course that is my reproductive system.
Friday was a very tough day for me. The amount of tears I shed was unbearable. I felt defeated by life. I felt so achy that I was exhausted. I was struggling with every thought in my mind. It hurt to much to give up trying. To admit that we were not capable of having children naturally. I am a woman. I am bred to bring life into this world. I am supposed to be a mother. I feel as if I have failed my husband. If only I were fertile enough, I could surpass all of his issues and give him the gift of children.
I failed us.
I anticipated my first injection all day. I was nervous to think about having to stick myself with a needle. How much would this hurt? Would I cry? Does it only sting or hurt for minutes? I walked into the door, went to the fridge, grabbed my medication from the refrigerator and sat down on my bed. I put on Netflix in the background in hopes that it would take the edge off of what I was feeling.
First day is completed. The injection only stung for a brief moment. I gently poked my stomach only a few times attempting to build up the courage to push the injection button on the pen. I sympathize with every woman going through this. You feel like less of a woman. You cannot do what you were born to, and no one around you understands what you’re going through. You start wondering if this could be your fault. What life choices did you make that could make your infertile. Drinking, smoking, a fall? Is there something deeper wrong with your body. Are you incapable of implantation? Are you ever going to have children or will you spend tens of thousands only to die a lonely couple? All of these thoughts bombard your brain the second your thumb presses down on the needle trigger.
The smell of the medicine was so strong. I can still smell it now.
This opens up a new chapter in our book.
I am worried what to expect with these hormone injections. Headaches, mood swings, fatigue and memory loss. All very common symptoms. Colin is very supportive. I am very fortunate. He will sit beside me through these treatments, hold my hand when I need to and hug me every night. He will be an amazing father and I hate that he beats himself up over this, thinking that this is all of his fault. I hope that the chances are successful with our first treatment. a 20% success rate is low, but it may be that boost my body needs.