My IUD experience

A couple of people have messaged me privately asking about my IUD experience and things have been since. I know there are other CF after IF couples out there who may be contemplating many of the same things Buddy and I did in terms of how to find that peace of mind when deciding to move on to other life experiences, so I'm going to talk about it a little.

Firstly, I chose Paragard, the copper IUD. After coming off hormonal BCPs, it took me about a year to regulate and have some consistency, and I experienced other effects such as weight gain. I personally wouldn't choose to use a hormonal BC again, so I was glad Paragard was an option. An added bonus is that it lasts 10 years instead of Mirena's 5, so I get more for my money. The downside is that it can cause longer and heavier periods and increased cramping because your body is reacting to the copper in the device. I've always felt I was pretty lucky in that department, so for me it wasn't a big concern. I may have made a different decision if I already had heavy flow or bad cramping.

Obviously, the day before my appointment was an emotional one. I never doubted our choice, but it was still emotional. As I stated in a previous post, part of the anxiety came from the part of the cycle the doctor insisted on for insertion. When I got to the office and was called back, I was asked to take a pregnancy test. Um, say what? First, I was still bleeding, and secondly, I had checked in and asked to use the ladies room with no mention from any of the ladies at the desk that I would need to provide a sample for testing. Even if I'd been able to leave a sample, I was not prepared emotionally to be asked to take an HPT. I'm a rare breed in the TTC world in that I've only ever taken 4 pregnancy tests. I always used my temps to help me decide if I should test, so for me to take an HPT was a BIG deal. So, I did the only rational thing I could think of and I ugly-cried at the nurse, told her there was no way I was pregnant and refused an HPT. I had to sign something acknowledging this, and she seemed more miffed than she should have been. When the doc came in, he acknowledged I'd declined and mentioned that I have a history of IF, and seemed understanding and that was the end of the discussion. I share this part of it because I was in no way mentally prepared for the request for an HPT and just want to make anyone contemplating an IUD (or possibly any BC) after IF aware that this may happen.

The insertion itself was far easier and less painful than I'd imagined. The doctor performed an ultrasound to measure my uterus, then talked me through the steps of the insertion. Words like "clamp on the cervix" had me pretty worried about the pain factor, but I hardly felt it. The insertion felt similar to the cramping I'd had when I had my HSG, but less intense. It was over in a matter of moments, and was followed by another ultrasound to confirm proper placement. I was given Motrin for cramping and was told I was free to go and to call if I had any questions or discomfort lasting beyond a few days.

I was pretty crampy and sore for the next 48-ish hours. I had the IUD inserted on Friday morning and felt like my usual self by the time I woke up on Sunday. Emotionally, Friday was pretty awful. I was okay during the day at work (except that it just happened that a coworker was leaving to take vacation to get married and someone else asked her when she was having kids - and then asked when I was having them), but when Buddy got home, all I wanted to do was cry and cuddle up to him for comfort. He was an absolute rock star - he brought me wine and In N Out, along with a Cosmo to cheer me up.

Since I got the IUD, I do feel more at peace. I think Buddy does, too. We now both feel we can heal and have the certainty of what the next few years will look like. I found myself doing things around the house alongside Buddy in those first few days and  thinking, "this is going to be okay" and truly meaning in it for the first time in a long time. I think we're both happier and more at ease with talking about our new sense of the future. It's been good for our love life- I think we were both worried about the off-chance of a pregnancy and the opportunity for miscarriage, and with that gone, so is the hesitation to be intimate. I definitely think it was the right choice for us.

Hot Button Topics

** This is another one of those posts that people may read it and think "she's talking about me, she's offended by what I said and this is passive aggressive." It's not, I promise. This is an idea that's been kicking around in my head for a while, and by coincidence, a couple instances that fit have come up as of late. I'm not offended by those instances, but they've given me the push I may have needed to broach the topic. **

There's no doubt that in the world of infertility, some things said by other people offend us deeply. Some of them, we're justified in our response, because the comments really are just completely thoughtless. This post is about the reactions I don't always think are justified. Keep in mind, I'm human too. While these are my thoughts in theory, on a rational day, I admit that I sometimes have a "WTF?" reaction to comments like those I'm about to point out.

So what kind of comments am I talking about? Those that are made my pregnant people, mainly. Comments like "I will be sooo disappointed if this baby is not a girl" or "I am soooo miserable being pregnant." Any comment that touches on the less-than-desirable aspects of pregnancy or showing anything less than 100% gratefulness for the pregnancy itself can be huge hot buttons for IF women. And I understand why. I totally do. We have a tendency to feel like anyone lucky enough to be pregnant should be constantly thankful, and have a "how dare you not just want a baby, whether it's a healthy or unhealthy or a boy or a girl?" mindset. However, I don't think it's fair.

We all came into this baby-making business assuming we'd follow the life-plan we were told about: grow up, fall in love, get married, have babies. That's in general - sometimes the order gets shuffled, but you know what I mean. We all figured it was a given that - if that's what we wanted for ourselves - we'd find a partner and have a family. And then Infertility enters Life for some of us, and we realize that the family dream is not a given. And we start to realize that it was something we took for granted. We feel the people who got to live that life-plan don't appreciate it or recognize how fragile it can be. And we get angry when they make comments that display their naivety.

Truly, how are they supposed to know how good they have it when they haven't faced anything but love-marriage-baby carriage? How can we expect them to understand the hurtfulness of their comments when they don't know any other way? I think of it kind of like being a cancer survivor. I'm happy to be alive, and I enjoy my life. But I probably don't appreciate it as much having never had my livelihood jeopardized by disease. In comparison to someone who's had to fight to live, I probably take a lot of things for granted and don't appreciate some things I consider really small. It's probably the same with fertile people - they have no idea what they are so fortunate to have and how easy it could be to be on the other side and have no control over the course their life takes. So while the comments of fertiles may annoy me, I don't think it's fair to expect them to realize the gift in their life. When 88% of the population never has to worry about it, why would they?

Let's face it - pregnancy is uncomfortable. Morning sickness - that apparently lasts all day - has to downright suck. There's a fetus hanging out inside you zapping your energy, sleeping with its head on your bladder and its feet kicking at your lungs. Your hips spread, you leak substances, and everyone and their brother thinks it's okay to touch you. And yet, millions of IF couples fight for the opportunity to experience it, while 8 times as many couples find themselves in the situation relatively effortlessly. Because of my explanation about appreciation above, women who are pregnant and became that way spontaneously are going to say things that piss off someone who would (and/or did) pay good money to trade places and feel all those discomforts. I know it's hard to not be offended by the stupid things they say like "I hate pregnancy" or "I'm so tired of this," when it's something you'd give so much for, but they (meaning fertiles) don't know what they have accomplished - in relation to us IFers - in just achieving that pregnancy. While we'd give so much to be in their shoes, I don't think it's fair to get upset with them over complaining about swollen ankles. While we'd be happy to trade, we'd be pissed off by swollen ankles and an ability to get comfortable enough to sleep fitfully - in between trips to the restroom - too. Because like I said, pregnancy is uncomfortable, whether it was spontaneous or achieved through ART. Complaining about pregnancy isn't an effort to to be spiteful or throw their condition in our face. Could they possibly have the wherewith all to censor their comments? Sure, but that would mean they'd first have to recognize that appreciation I mentioned above. Do I feel they should always censor themselves? Not really.

Comments over a baby's gender also get under IFers' skin. I'm the first to admit, I always pictured myself as the mom of a girl. That was just my vision. There were boy names I liked, but there are girl names I LOVE. I never put a lot of thought into boy names because I was going to have girls. But in the IF world, there's a sort of taboo in hoping for one or the other. The only option anyone is supposed to hope for is "healthy." But again, this isn't fair. Everyone hopes for a healthy baby, because that's part of being a parent - you don't want your child to face illness or adversity or pain. But that doesn't mean it's not okay to have a vision or a preference. Saying you hope for a girl isn't the same as saying you won't love a boy. It's also not the same as saying you'd rather have an unhealthy girl than a healthy boy. It's also fine to truly not have a preference, but it doesn't make you better than someone who does. And again, if you are a fertile person who's never spent nights crying and wondering if you'll ever have ANY baby, the gender of said baby is probably something that you feel free to make comment on without much thought. And that, of course upsets someone who is infertile and maybe does 100% feel they'd have any baby, any day of the week. Again, the fact that fertile people don't have the appreciation doesn't justify the angry response I sometimes see. Is it annoying? Sure, at times. Do I understand why they don't see it as a big deal? Yes.

Again, I'm not saying I'm perfect or that I've never gotten upset by these comments. I have. I probably will again. I'm just saying that on a good day - with a clear head - this is my thought process and reaction. There are always going to be people who don't realize or appreciate what they have, and there are going to be people who really do have negative intentions with their comments. But what I've come to realize is that it's not fair to expect someone to have the sensitivity of an infertile person - or to even keep in mind the reaction of an infertile person to their comments - if they've never been infertile.

IUD Day

Tomorrow is IUD Day. I know our decision to not continue TTC or use ART and then to now TTA may not be for everyone. I get that, and I understand and respect it. But I am a ball of emotion today. When I read Sweet Grapes it brought me so much comfort, and so much validation in regard to so many things I was feeling. One of the things the couple who wrote the book talked about was affirming the decision to be CFNBC. And they chose to affirm by going back to birth control. I explained it in a previous post, but for me, I need some control. I need to know what the next couple of years will look like while we do the things we've planned "instead." I hated being "late" and wondering what if. I don't want that anymore.

I want this. And yet, I have a heavy heart. It's truly a closing of a chapter. I know it's what's right for us. I'm anxious though, in part because my OB/GYN insists on inserting the IUD during menstruation. I would have liked to wait until Monday, but the triage nurse scheduling my appointment informed me that since I've never given birth (gut punch), a doctor had to perform the procedure and there were no appointments available on Monday. So I feel icky and sad, and I have to go be naked and icky in front of a man doctor I don't know so I can formally put the TTC nail in the coffin.

Like I said, I know you readers may not agree with our decision. But this has been a discussion for months, and we feel confident in it. If you could spare some loving thoughts, I'd appreciate it.

Ssssspencer meets Clover

Obviously, when I brought Spencer home (er, had him delivered via USPS), I had to consider that I have two dogs at home, with one in particular who likes to eat toys. So even though I plan to keep Spencer in my underwear drawer (what? Where would you keep a plush sperm?) I wanted to make sure my pup, Clover, knew not to mess with my new toy. And Spencer, not being the type to want to die an early death by de-fluffing, was on board.

She looks incredibly intimidated, doesn't she?

Introducing Spencer

After reading a very awesome blog by my pal, Kristy, who suffers from PCOS, I've gone and done something... a little nutty. You see, Kristy got herself a plushie, an ovary she named Olivia (she also has an egg and a sperm, but they've yet to make their true mark). She takes Olivia everywhere, from Bass Pro Shop to her RE's office and Walmart. And she helped me to discover that Olivia has friends, namely a sperm plush. And so, I adopted Spencer.

Don't let the Comic Sans and bow fool you. He's one bad ass sperm doll (yeah, according to Amazon, he's a "preschool toy"). And he's judgy, clearly. But he has a soft side: Spencer enjoys gardening, movies, and dancing to LMFAO.

So, he may pop up now and then. I don't know exactly what role he'll take. Mainly, I'm thinking comic relief. You know, take it out on the sperm now and then. In a funny way.

Graduation

Last night, Buddy joined me at my therapy session. It was a little weird because my therapist was running about 20 minutes late, and it was kind of awkward to not know how long to wait. I knew I had an appointment - it had been confirmed, but this had never happened before, and she doesn't have a receptionist in the building, so...?  Buddy was about 15 minutes late, so we wanted 5 minutes together and decided we'd only wait 5 more, and she opened the door about 2 minutes later. So, better late than never.

It was kind of strange to be there with him. I had told him a couple months ago about the types of things I've talked about because I didn't want him to be caught off guard by any topic that might come up, but it felt odd to have him there. Normally, the session is just a conversation, more or less, between me and my therapist. She'll ask how I'm doing and if anything in particular is bothering me, and then we just kind of have a conversation until a topic sticks and then she might ask me to elaborate. She basically leads me through talking to a solution or clarity on whatever it is I'm working through. With Buddy there, I didn't have any specific agenda with him there - it was just so meaningful to have his support in the room. It took a little longer to start the conversation, but some really good things did come out of it.

We talked for a bit about how Buddy handles things and how we kind of react to each other. For a while now, I've had a hard time wrapping my head around how this can be such a traumatic thing for me and he can just be like, "it is what it is." The fact of the matter is, he IS sad, but something that's probably as basic as the difference between men and women allows for him to not think about his biological clock constantly. He's also not surrounded by a community (on The Bump, through blogs, on Facebook) of women that remind him of the situation. It's not a bad thing that that community is around me, it just is. I also had no idea that he actually is comfortable telling people that we aren't having kids and indicating that fertility is the reason. I know he has told people we aren't having them, but last night he said that his coworkers know it's because we can't (yes, I realize we chose not to do treatments, but left on our own, we consider ourselves unable, or at the very least highly unlikely, to have them).

In the beginning of our infertility experience, we talked about it often. I mean, it was hard not to. It was on our minds a lot and it was an incredibly emotional time in our home. But it fell out of his thinking much more quickly than it did mine. I don't bring it up much because I don't want him to feel bad because the bulk of our infertility is on his side. What I didn't know is that he doesn't bring it up not because he feels badly or because he doesn't think about it, but because he doesn't want to "trigger" me. From the conversation with the therapist, he's a lot more aware of when I'm triggered than I thought he was. I keep a lot of it to myself because sometimes, I have a bad week and everything gets to me, but apparently I'm far more transparent - at least to my husband - than I thought. So basically, in the same way I'm been shielding him from my emotions, he's been trying to help my in his own way by avoiding upsets. I think moving on from here, we can be more open and communicate more feelings and know that they're not bad to express and we aren't going to hurt each other with them.

Anyway, the very exciting thing for me is that I graduated from therapy. The last couple of sessions before this one have been less emotional and I didn't feel like I had as much "stuff" to talk about. We still talked obviously, but I didn't come into those sessions with a mental list of things that I wanted to cover. So we decided that we'll just play it be ear, and see how it goes. I didn't make my next appointment, and I don't intend to. I know I'm welcome to contact my therapist if I have a small issue that I want perspective on, and she asked me to keep in touch. I feel incredibly lucky to have found her, because I think she was just the right fit for me. I'll be forever grateful for her help and guidance. As cheesy as it may sound, she is a part of this process for me, and she'll always be thought of in kind regards as a big reason that we were able to get through this time. It was the absolute best thing I could have done for myself. It's the end of yet another phase for me, but I'm looking forward to taking what I've learned and reflected on carrying it with me.

Get me off this roller coaster

For the last 6 or 8 months, my cycles have consistently been 28 or 29 days. I can feel when I ovulate on the left (I seem to O more frequently on that side) and I have my pesky spotting for 3 or so days before CD1. This last cycle was different. I couldn't feel O, my typical pre-CD1 symptoms came and went and my cycle was 32 days with very little spotting on CD31. Not my typical cycle. Basically, for the few days I was "late," I was freaking out.

All sorts of things went through my head. We'd avoided when I assumed my fertile window would be (since I'm not on progesterone supplements and am worried about the possibility of miscarriage), but if my cycle was long, I was off on that and something could have happened. What if I was pregnant?  I just painted the craft room purple! It would have to be a girl. How would Buddy react? What about all the work I've done in therapy to be okay with childfree? What about financially? We could afford a baby, but not saving for a baby as of the last 6 months has meant more expendable income. Did I want to give up my pricier haircuts and our dinners out? I kind of like having money to spend on stuff for me. What about our plans for remodeling things in our home or finally having a vacation? A baby would mean that would get put off a while. What about insurance? My insurance sucks now, and maternity care would be so much more than before. I know we'd figure it out, but did we want to anymore?

And I realized something. I wasn't sure I wanted to be pregnant with a surprise. Over the last 6 months, I've come to a place where I enjoy life with my husband and we have new things to look forward to. We're having fun making plans to refinish the kitchen cabinets and reface the fireplace. We're enjoying things like gardening, and I'm focused on my side business and he has time to go dirt-biking. Life is good - something I couldn't have envisioned 6 months ago. I found myself incredibly confused. How could I have feelings like this when we'd been so devastated 8 months ago? When my cycle finally ended, I found myself relieved, and I knew it was time to do something.

We've talked about it off and on over the last few months. Hope is great, but it's also exhausting. Suddenly thinking for the first time in 8 months that there could have been a chance, slight as it may be, shot me back to our TTC days of hoping and hoping and then being let down. I hate the feeling. And so, I'm going to do something I read about in "Sweet Grapes," something to affirm our decision. At the same time, it's something that seems counter-intuitive to my grief. I'm going to the doctor and I'm inquiring about an IUD. I realized I'd enjoyed not having the ups and downs of TTC, and after being thrown back into it by three simple days, I wanted my serenity back. Yes, I'm still sad at not having children, but unless I - er rather, we - change our minds about this decision we've made, it doesn't feel fair to me to ride the emotional roller coaster anymore. I want certainty and consistency. If we're going to move on, I want to move on. I want some control. I'm confident that I want to focus on this to-do list Buddy and I have been building and working on. I'm relieved to be letting go of this part of it.