Sacrifices

My weekly ritual on most Sunday evenings is to take a bit of Nyquil to help me sleep, or else I'm tossing and turning in bed until 1am. Imagine my paralysing terror when I realised that if I were to get pregnant, there would be no more Nyquil!!! Nyquil makes my Sunday nights pass with such ease, and my Mondays chilled out and relaxed due to my loooovely Nyquil haze. Do you think I'd get fired if my employer found out I have a Nyquil hangover on a weekly basis? On a Monday morning (as if Monday mornings aren't hard enough) it's all I can do to not say, "Dude...like calm down man...can't we all just get along and love each other?" to people on the phone or via email. I hope I'm not inadvertantly wandering around the building with a goofy smile on my face and glazed over half-lidded eyes. So what if I am, it feels gooooooooood.

Saturday bloody Saturday

Today is the day. Not that my cycle has ever been close to normal, but if it was to actually obey nature's intent I would start my new cycle today. I hate this time of the month because though in the very back of my mind I'm optimistic, I know there is no point. When it is nearly time for the blob to show up I find myself incredulously peering into my underwear every time I go to the bathroom, hoping I don't see anything. I do this sort of squinting, head-turned-to-the-side thing, with one eye on my underwear and the other closed so (god forbid) two eyes wouldn't have to see any blood if there was any! I do this every month, as if I think that perhaps if I don't make full eye contact with my underwear, I won't really be bleeding. If only it were that easy.

Traffic--believe it or not, it can be a good thing!

So I have had my first visitor to the blog. It's pathetic how excited I was to see that someone has actually read at least some of what I've written. I ran into the front room to tell The Dude the good news and he looked at me as if I was mad. I think it was more because I interrupted his football watching rather than questioning the visible joy exhibited by me because I'm no longer talking to myself, at least not today. Deadbug was kind enough to not only leave me a comment, but add me to her links list of "Infertastics". Thanks Deadbug. As soon as I am blog savvy enough to figure out how to have my own list of links I will compile one of my own.

I think of myself as quite computer literate, but I confess I'm a bit lost in the blog world. I've been attempting to get out more in our little infertility blog sphere to read, leave comments, and hopefully have people visit my own corner of blogdom. I was naive when I started the blog all of two weeks ago, as it didn't dawn on me that I'd actually want people to read the damn thing. Does every blog neophyte check for comments and traffic obsessively when they first start off? I confess, I sometimes check about 6 times a day, which I guess would explain my current excitement. Lame, huh? I just can't convey how thrilled I am to find a community of like-minded individuals for once! It's nice to know after two years of going through this essentially alone, that I there may be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Pru

Broken parts -- spread the word?

I think of myself as a private person. I suppose this isn't too surprising considering my husband is the only person I can tolerate for more than a day of continuous exposure, and even that is tested at times. When I moved abroad I didn't leave many friends behind, as many had moved further afield anyway. I guess it's because of this that I never shared my problems with infertility, or even PCOS with anyone outside my family. As it stands now, my mom is the only person I discuss these things with, and even that is at no great length because I cannot cope with her attempts to try and make me feel better.

Me: Well, I'm still doing the injections. I get one dose every night and sometimes two. I feel a bit achey and emotional, but aside from that I'm fine at the moment.

Her: I'm sorry to hear that. Hey, you know that woman at church that had fertility treatment? She had her baby. She only had one IUI before she got pregnant. She said her friend also had to have fertility treatment and she got pregnant with twins the first time! Oh yeah, and the one that had the twins cousin's greatniece took Clomid and got pregnant too. I'm sure you will be soon too.

Me: Yeah...so how are the dogs?

I suppose she tries. She has lovely functioning ovaries that churned out two kids, so I don't expect her to know what to say.

I don't feel as if I can share this infertility business with anyone primarily because I don't want their sympathy. I don't want people to feel as if they have to think of something to say to make me feel better, nor do I want stories about how it will happen to me if I just invest in the power of positive thinking. I think a lot of people with children have fertility guilt, and I don't want to put people in that difficult position. Naturally this does not mean I don't resent some people with kids, because I do. Not everyone...I'm selective in my jealousy and resentment. I have been reading some blogs lately of astonishingly strong women that have moved past that point on the rugged road of infertility, but I'm afraid I'm not there yet, and I don't see the end being in sight. Anyway, that is a whole other topic...

The intent behind this post is to find out if other people feel as private about their infertility experiences as I do. I have worked very hard to mask my identity in this blog because of a desperate fear of being googled and found out. I'm slightly bothered by my irrational fear of being discovered as AN INFERTILE, as it's not like I'm writing a beastiality blog or confessing my incurable lust for George W Bush. I guess I'd be a bit embarrassed by any cooter comments that I've made, but aside from that it's not as if there is anything to be ashamed of. Why am I so scared that people will find out my ovaries are broken?!?!

So it's 2005...

At the moment with getting this blog thing off the ground I feel as if this is just a personal diary for my perusal only. I imagine that is all it is anyway, since I don't really know how people browsing the internet stumble upon these things. I feel a bit stupid writing all this stuff in a public forum for what is essentially sole readership--me. Oh well. Maybe some bored/needful/fill in applicable adjective here surfer will eventually stumble upon my little non-sensical ventings and gain some comfort from knowing that there are people out there with common experiences. I know that is what has helped me through so much of this, as well as inspiring me to air all my feelings publicly.

I did have an objective other than self-pity when I started this...what was it...oh yes, the new year. So, for anyone that *may* read this: best wishes for a fruitful and gloriously happy 2005. I'm hoping that based on the last few years' events in my life that the next big thing to happen to me will be pregnancy, but then again, if it wasn't would I be here typing this? I moved to the UK in 2002 and spent the year getting a job, mortgage, and adjusting to the fantastic (yet overwhelming) life change. 2003 found me moving to my second flat since the transatlantic relocation, whilst simultaneously getting a new job and losing my grandfather. 2004 was ushered in by my introduction to Clomid, and a long 6 months followed. I also started my MA in this period, so in that sense Clomid was a blessing in disguise as I had a built in excuse when I didn't do well in papers or exams. Naturally it was the Clomid not procrastination! October 2004 was the start of this injections/IUI ballyhoo, and as I've mentioned, it's still going on. Soooo...after all that I'm hoping that 2005 will bring a nice, stressful, positively eventful year.

Pru