What I Wish I Knew

Greetings. As I am officially into my second trimester (!) I wanted to take some time to log the things I wish I had known going into this journey. I know this blog has been passed around to people that I may not know personally (what's up strangers!) and that makes me so very happy. If this weird spot on the internet can give others who are going through a similar journey some guidance/hope, than I'll feel really good about myself - which is always the point. 

So here goes my list of things I wish I had known when we started on this fertility rollercoaster:

1. The year of "trying" was the hardest for me. 
The year we spent trying wreaked emotional havoc in our household. Having sex every other day for 3 straight months sounds cool until you have to do it. And peeing on sticks every day, multiple times a day, is really frustrating. Taking your temperature every morning and charting it was fucking annoying. In the thick of it, I felt lost and hopeless - I knew something was wrong but not knowing what consumed me. I also felt silly for feeling sad - there was a global pandemic and social unrest and I was over here crying because I got my period again. It felt inconsequential. If I could tell myself one thing during this time, I'd say - you have a right to feel sad. This sucks but it won't last forever. 

2. Up to 50% of all infertility includes a male factor diagnosis - don't wait to get him checked.
I remember showing up to my gynecologist with a notebook in hand - all my questions ready to be asked. She said, "wow you're really prepared." and I was like, "mam, I'm ready to fucking go. Tell me what's wrong with me." I was SO convinced something was wrong with me. Of course with all the reading I was doing towards the end of our "trying" year, I knew there was a possibility that something could be wrong with Evan's swimmers, but this whole process (TTC, pregnancy, motherhood) has been, and continues to be, placed on the woman's shoulders. I had to test my ovulation. I had to take my basal body temperature. I had to tell Evan "Meet me in the bedroom it's go time!" And I had to tell him every month that it didn't work. So it's not that strange that I assumed the problem was with my lady parts. As I started to go through testing and each test came back "normal," I started getting even more frustrated. I can ONLY imagine what it feels like to have a diagnosis of unexplained infertility (which is 33% of all infertility diagnoses - all tests for both partners comes back completely normal and yet pregnancy does not occur.) I wish I had doctors who understood infertility rates among men and women and instead of having me go through test after test until they would even consider sending Evan for a sperm analysis, they instead would have sent him when I started testing too. I wish I would've advocated for that. 

3. The shots aren't that bad. 
I'm not scared of needles so I didn't have that big of a hurdle when it came to the shots, but I was concerned about how they would affect me physically and emotionally. Actually taking the shots was not that big of a deal - it was helpful to have Evan around to ensure I was actually doing it right the first few times. But after a day or two, I was bringing my shots out to dinners and bars, shooting up in the bathroom stall like a real pro. I will say that emotionally, the injections I was on prior to transfer did a little number on me. Pumping yourself full of pregnancy hormones will do that. But I'm sure if you ask Evan, I've been a complete joy to be around the last 3 months :)

4. Never make fun of Evan for being constipated ever again - that shit is LITERALLY the worst.
Wow wow wow - that anesthesia fucked your GI tract up, sis. Start the colace early. Hydrate lots. Do not take a steam shower thinking it will help. Chug Miralax and maybe just don't eat as much. Again - this won't last forever, but damn - it's rough.

5. People really do not know what to say / how to support you - learn who your IVF peeps will be and forgive the rest. 
Going through trying times can show you who, among your friends and family, is capable of sitting in the muck with you and who doesn't have the capacity to do that. It doesn't mean they are bad people or aren't worth staying close with - it just means you can't rely on them for emotional support as much as you maybe thought you could. It is upsetting when people respond with "what about adoption?" or "I'm sure this is hard but wait until you actually have a kid" - but you know the intention is good, the delivery is piss poor. Find those that remind you of and celebrate you for your strength. People who don't offer solutions but instead just say, "I'm sorry you're going through this." And above all else - find some peace within yourself. No one can say the perfect thing or take away that this is happening.

6. Social media TTC/infertility accounts are both a blessing and a curse - limit your exposure.
Finding women on social media who are going through IVF makes you feel less alone but also causes a lot of comparison. And often those who are posting on social media have really difficult (and rare) stories - on their 6th transfer, experiencing their 8th miscarriage, losing a baby at 22 weeks. It's hard to continuously see bad news. Remember that your experience is unique - just because these things happen, doesn't mean they will happen to you.

7. SART data is your friend. 
When considering clinics, do your homework. Spend time reviewing the SART data and google which metrics are most important (live birth rates after first transfer.)

8. You won't regret going to the premier IVF joint - listen to your gut. 
After you've looked at the numbers, make a choice that makes sense AND feels right. CCRM has some of the best results in the nation - you will not be bothered by the flights and time spent in Denver. It's actually sort of fun.

9. Figuring out insurance coverage early helped me make decisions which helped me feel in control.
Money is a huge part of this experience and we were lucky enough to not have to be worried about it because I knew from the early days that IVF was covered completely (minus genetic testing.) That gave me a lot of freedom to really explore what our options were. Take the time to call your insurance provider early on, ask your doctors for codes for any procedures you may need and ask about them specifically. Realize that medications may not be covered or covered under your prescription benefit (mine was under medical.)

10. Don't wait - to get off BC, to see a doctor, to get a second opinion, etc. 
A lot of this journey is having patience, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't be proactive. I wish I had stopped taking birth control once we got married, just so I could understand my cycle. I wish I didn't wait a whole year to seriously see a doctor (I could've just fibbed and said we'd been trying for a year even if we hadn't been.) You really do need to be your own advocate throughout this - don't wait to start.

11. Consider being more up front with my managers earlier about what was going on.
Because that year of "trying" was so difficult on me, I have no doubt that it affected me at work. And once I started going to doctors, I was missing work left and right. I was lucky to have managers who were caring and compassionate, but I didn't give them the benefit. I was shameful and didn't want the fact that I was trying to start a family hinder my professional development. But it caused me to retreat in a lot of situations. I wish I had opened up earlier so that I could find support at work when I needed it most.

12. Celebrate milestones. 
Evan has reminded me and helped us celebrate throughout this process. I know that we've had a lot to celebrate, and often that is not the case. But even making it through the egg retrieval, regardless of results, should be cause for celebration. Treat yourself - you deserve it.

13. Try to listen to the really quiet voice that says "you will be a mother" more often.
I'm a pretty pessimistic person by nature, but in moments when I really worried about where this journey would take us - I did have a very small, quiet voice that said "you will be a mother, some way, some how." I wish I had trusted that voice more than I did.

14. You chose the absolute best partner to go through life with - love him fiercely. 
This process has been very difficult for my relationship, but more than anything it's reinforced my choice in a partner. Evan has remained my positive beacon of hope. He showed up for me every day and I can't think him enough for that. He will be the best dad in the world - I'm absolutely sure of it.