Roller-a-coasters

Back in the day, I would think of a roller-a-coaster and the only feelings and thoughts were positive - joy, fun, and entertaining. Now, when I think of roller-a-coasters all that comes into my mind is an emotional struggle that is infertility.

Especially since it is the only way I can explain my emotions on any given day. They are up, they are down, and (at a few lucky moments) they are stable.

On Tuesday, I went to see my therapist. It was day 2 of our last IUI cycle. And I felt nostalgic. Wondering if I was absolutely ready to quit without the ultimate prize. I was sad at the thought of not winning. Ultimately, I left wondering how I was going to talk to T about possibly trying an IVF cycle.

But as all roller-a-coasters do, I started to climb to the first massive drop. Ironically, back in the day, that was my favorite part, the drop. That part when your stomach reached your throat. But now I know that with infertility, at least so far, there is no going upwards after the drop. All there has been is a drop. (No pregnancy, and no baby to allow for a moment of success.)

As I sat yesterday on the ledge of the first drop, I realized Day 3 and the subsequent days are the reason I want to get off this crazy roller-a-coaster.

It is stressful, tearful, anxiety ridden, all consuming and definitely NOT fun.

Day 3 is the beginning of the nightmare of a cycle. It is the day I usually have some comfrontation with someone at the clinic.

This time it was over whether or not I can do my monitoring on day 8 instead of day 7. The first nurse said yes, the second nurse who called ignored the request, and the last nurse I spoke to allowed it. Then they denied my request for progesterone.

It is holding my breathe that the cycle will fit in with T's crazy ass schedule. And maneuvering mine completely and totally around. It is making sure that I am available at a moments notice for my IUIs. Because G-d knows when those will be.

It is ordering my drugs. Hoping that the stuff I have in the refrigerator is still good.

It is stress from every angel. I hate day threes. Hate them. They are why I want to stop cycling all together. They are the beginning of all my anxiety. The beginning of stress and anxiety that only grows expodentially after insemination.

It is the beginning of getting up an hour and half earlier, ultra sounds, self-injections, daily blood draws, schedule conflicts, stress that my body won't respond, that my body will respond too well, that something freakish will go wrong.

It is never fun. It is never carefree.

It is the beginning of feeling resentful torwards my Mother for not being the mother I need. Because when I cycle, I can't tell her. Afterall, all I hear is "Why are you doing that? Just quit." Instead I realize I get short with her for no reason. My anger is boiling because she won't provide me support. But she insists that I call her everyday so that she can talk at me. Because she is lonely.

It is the beginning of me creating a shell around myself. To get thru everything else that is going around me. To shield T. To avoid overwhelming my friends.

It is the beginning of all the things I dislike in my life right now. It is a reminder that my body doesn't work like other women's. It is being anxious, overwhelmed, frustrated, and fatigued.

I wonder if roller-a-coasters will ever be fun again.