“Just Do What My Wife and I Did For Our THREE Kids”

Yep. That has to be one of my all-time favourite, solicited, advice. Yes- it was solicited. That there beauty of a sentence came from our publicly funded Gyno.

Awesome-sauce huh?

That very moment was when I realized there was no way in hell we were keeping him as our “ForeverGyno”. (What? You don’t have a FG? Missing out).

In case you’re just popping by- I’m Canadian and in Canada you may have heard that our healthcare is “free”. I put the word “free” in quotations cuz beyond the tax part (which I wholeheartedly support! Communism or bust!) there are LOTS of parts of healthcare that aren’t free. Like lots of cancer treatments and… infertility treatments. Anyhoo, that’s a whole other kettle of fish (ahem, blog post).

So yeah. Prior to going to the (in)fertility clinic we got to go through a bunch of FREE medical steps, including going to see the (in)fertility gyno at our local hospital. Which, generally I have only amazing things to say about the hospital and staff. But this guy… who is supposedly a fertility “expert” and who also works in the (in)fertility clinic, was flabbergastingly awful.

Sitch 1: 1st visit with Mr Gyno (henceforth known as “Dr FertileMyrtle” or DrFM). DrFM waltzes in the room, casually glances at our charts, cuts off all our sentences and proclaims that obvs the reason we’re not preggers is because I was taking a tincture recommended by my crazy doctor (sorry “Naturopath”) to help us GET pregnant. His advice- go off it immediately. Oh- and can you book yourself in for a scary Fallopian tube flushing appointment, bloodwork and semen analysis? Thanks.

Sitch 2: Went through very awful tube flushing procedure with minimal tears and panic attacks (thanks to half an Atavan), bloodwork and semen analysis (hilarious event btw) complete.

DrFM waltzes in, and asks why Hubby isn’t there…
Me: “Oh… he couldn’t get off work”
DrFM: “Oh he DEFINITELY wants to see these results. I mean, his sperm are really doing great.”
Me: “Oh?” awkward laugh “Well that’s good news, I’ll tell him… about my (scary awful fallopian tube procedure) and bloodwork…?”
DrFM: “Oh yeah” glances dismissively at the report “Yeah they were fine. So, you should take a picture of these sperm count numbers and text it to him”
Me: “Ummm, really? Uh, OK” takes picture, texts to husband. Feels pretty weird.
DrFM: “Ok, so everything looks fine, except you might have endometriosis.”
Me: “Uhhh. Really? But I don’t have any symptoms…”
DrFM: “Here’s a pamphlet on the procedure to determine whether you have endometriosis. Endo-me-tri-osis. It’s a disorder. Here, I’ll write it down so you can google it.” scribbles on the back of the pamphlet.
Me: “Yes I know what it is. I just don’t think I have that. I don’t have any symptoms.”
DrFM: “Well other than infertility. Just consider it. You know what you both should do? You should just do what my wife and I did for our three kids- around the time of your ovulation just have sex every day. Worked great for my wife and I.”
Me: “…..”
DrFM(L): “Anyway, just think about that (exploratory surgery for a disease for which I have no symptoms) and I’ll see you in three months.”
Walks out.

Sitch 3: Attended appointment WITH husband this time.

DrFM(L) waltzes in. Is obviously happy to see Husband.

DrFM(L): “So… still not pregnant eh?”
Us: Uncomfortable smiles “Nope” (Why the eff else would we be here d-bag??)
DrFM(L): “And you have sex every day while ovulating?”
Us: More uncomfortable by the minute “Yes”
DrFM(L): “Well. Huh… Ok then, here are the next steps available to you” Scribbles on a piece of paper while naming: “Keep trying naturally, exploratory endometriosis procedure, expensive fancy semen analysis, fertility drugs, IVF”
draws a line after “exploratory endometriosis procedure”
DrFM(L): “THIS is where provincial health stops covering, the rest is private and expensive.”
Me: “Yes, I discussed the (scary, for no reason) endometriosis procedure with my family doctor and I really don’t…”
DrFML: cuts me off “Well this procedure IS a common step in treating infertility, but of course it’s YOUR decision”
Us: firmly “We decided not right now”
DrFML: “Right. So here is some information about the (in)fertility clinic, you’re looking at about 10,000$ ball park. I work there so I could definitely put a rush on any semen analysis you want to get done…” continues to babble about inconsequential things while he walks us out the door.

Needless to say, we took a pass on his offer to follow us at the (in)fertility clinic. Thank fuck.

Back At ‘Er

So…. yeah. That was a bit of a gap eh?

Oops. Sorry dudes.

The past 8 months have been sorta a “head in the sand”, “idontwannaidontwanna” approach to planfully (that is a word, I say it is!) in the notsoplanful sense attack this whole conceiving thing.

Everything was getting overwhelming. So. We stopped everything except a few more Gyno appointments. Which were awful since the guy was a huge douche bag. No really. I plan on telling a few of those stories in posts to come.

And then, after a holiday season filled with stupid amounts of alcohol (because who’re we kidding, I was saying a huge fuck you to the preggers plan), we came out on the other side of 2015 with the agreement that we’d restart this whole ordeal.

Oh it’s not to say we weren’t TRYING these past months. We were. It’s just I stopped taking the Vitex, vitamins, seed smoothie regimen my Naturopath had put me on AND gave up on the temperature taking (it was just stressing me the fuck out with absofreakinglutely NO pattern whatsoever), stopped seeing the Naturopath altogether.

The only thing I kinda took sorta regularly: Folic Acid. Cuz no spina bifida for me.

The last week of December we made our appointment with the fertility clinic. An admission of failure. (at least, that’s what it felt like).

Had our appointment this morning.

3% chance of conceiving each month. 3-effing-percent. What.The.Fuck.

I barely heard the rest- which was basically a bunch of stuff about IVF. And needles. Drugs, injection classes, blood work and oh yeah- more needles. And “Good news, since we have no freakin’ clue WHY you’re not conceiving, you are GOOD candidates for IVF!”

All I am hearing right now is the massive procreation fail.

Oh and the 16,000$ price tag. This news a week after husband was laid off. Amazeballs.

TTC Blood work… when you hate needles…

Yesterday was a mid-day, day 21 (ish- it was actually day 22) cycle blood test. It has been three months that I’ve been trying to get my blood stolen from me quite rudely on my Day 21- the first few attempts were colossal failures for two reasons:

1. I’m not that motivated to plan having my blood sucked from my body and all that will entail (yes, I hate needles. Yes, there will be more, that doesn’t mean my dizziness, nausea and general feeling of catastrophe will ever pass).

2. My day 21 has landed TWICE on a Sunday… to which there are NO private or public blood collection clinics open in the city. I realize this always on the Sunday (instead of going the day before) and have zero time on the Monday to go in during a work day.

Monday was day 21… and thankfully I forgot my prescription thingy at home. Oh well. Yesterday I had some magical time between clients (and was already between daycare visits) to swing by the hospital and chill out nervously, trying not to vomit all over the nice (blood splattered, no seriously there were blood splatters) floor.

What I noticed about this visit compared to my Day 3 visit? Like this visit the Day 3 nurses new exactly why I was coming in- it had all the trappings of fertility or pregnancy blood work. I got LOADS of questions, cooing, encouragement and general coddling at that visit. TWO nurses helped me (along with PapaBean) get through the experience- it was fantastic. I left feeling weirdly hopeful.

Yesterday was different. Different hospital (and let’s be honest, blood drops on the floor do not induce confidence) with extremely cranky nurses. That said… as soon as a pregnant lady walked up to the counter there was cooing and ouuing and general exclamations of amaze-balls. I perked up. Maybe when the receptionist nurse lady saw MY blood work she would give me another song and dance. I mean- one can only hope?

Nope. It was clear this nurse came to a whole other (and to be fair, more accurate) conclusion: this bloodwork was because something isn’t working and we need to actually prove I ovulate. There were murmured questions about whether my coworker knew I was there- (the receptionist knew her and wanted me to pass along a message of “hey, what’s up”), but said in a way that perhaps I would want to hide this. No smiling, no happy song and dance… just a sad look on her face with a little sad smile.

The “nurse” who took my blood actually admitted (after I begged asked her to “please talk to me”) that she was in school for pharmacy and this was “just a job until I’m done my exams”…. PapaBean assures me that most blood work staff are lab techs and this was normal. Except, it made me want to puke all over and she honestly left an ugly bruised circle on my arm.

All in all, I survived another instance of my blood being stolen from me without fainting, vomiting or having to put my head between my knees. I call that a win.

Do you feel urges to prove you’ll be a worthy parent?

A weird and unexpected side affect of all this intensity and emotional trauma around trying, was the guilt and expectations regarding friend-babies.

PapaBean and I have (thankfully) only one close couple friends who have a baby and who’ve lived near by. Oh, we have loads of friends and acquaintances who have babies coming out of their ears, but we don’t hang out with them.

These friends are fabulous, alternative, like us, and happen to have the cutest little bean. Last fall we were so sad to see them move away but have kept in touch. They are in the inner circle of friends who know we’re trying (without success) and that I confide in often regarding just how hard this has been. She’s pregnant again- which I am legitimately happy for her (no face punching feelings! I view this as a successful step). And this summer they are visiting three times with their soon-to-be new born little girl.

But when she asked if we would babysit, I balked. And immediately felt like I should accept all things baby because we want one so badly. I worry that if I say how babysitting for three full 12hr days really just will be too much for us right now that she’ll think “why do you think you should have your own then, if it’s too much just for  a day”.

Oh I know she doesn’t actually think this… but it was a surprising emotion/thought that definitely was up front and central, hovering in the background of our conversation. I know, intellectually, that someone else’s child isn’t the same. That it is a good idea to start saying “no” and recognizing that having house guests, no matter how much they’re good friends, is a lot of work and we’ll need some down time.

On a similar thread; our cats wake us up 2-4x a night. This has been a nightly occurrence for over two years now. We’ve tried a whole bunch of strategies, but nothing really works. It’s honestly a whole other post, but I do actually get out of bed to feed them at least once a night (on good nights) and on bad nights it’s 4x of sitting up and spraying water like a crazy lady. I have no idea how I’m still functioning, since I’m a person who needs at least 10 hours of sleep to feel “perfectly rested”.

Whenever I complain about the cats to people who know we’re trying, I immediately feel guilty. Like if I can’t handle the cats, what will I do when we have a baby? Except, I know there’s a huge difference: a) babies aren’t cats; babies, for the most part, grow beyond the toddler stage b) you can’t spray them with water c) or hiss at them d) or kick them off the bed violently and yell “SHUT THE F%#K UP!”.

As a smart lady, who thought she had all her self-esteem shit in gear, these emotions and (over)reactions totally caught me off guard. I never figured I’d feel like I’d have to prove my worth as a parent BEFORE I even conceived.

I’m wondering- is this a common feeling for women TTC? (I say women, since my hubby has absolutely NO similar thoughts. I’ve asked. And I have a funny feeling it’s very gendered and socialized….boo).

When it’s not just about the conceiving…

Over the past year I’ve been the creepy person reading TTC blogs and either a) being completely overwhelmed by the acronyms (It’s like a secret, special, clubhouse language) b) scared shitless by the procedures and c) so impressed by the support and community.

What’s interesting is that for the most part the posts are about the female equation of the partnership (or I should specify, the lady in question trying to get pregnant, for all my LGBTQ peeps). Oh the man/partner is mentioned, enters and exits briefly via stage right, but the star of the show, the “piece of resistance” (Lego movie, how I adore thee) is… well… us.

Oh I get why. I mean, PapaBean and I have only just graduated from year 1 of TTC and already the tests, procedures, tracking all lay for the most part on moi. We fit the typical pattern that the “problem” seems to be more me than with him. Biologically.

Except. We’re also struggling with his very low sex drive and potentially ED difficulties. Whereas other couples can just decide at the drop of a hat to have sex, it’s never like that for us. It’s a whole endeavour that doesn’t always “work”. Prior to TTC, I was (am) a firm believer that sex doesn’t have to be intercourse and a healthy sexual relationship can look like many things and evolve with time. But. If we want to do this thing the natural way, some of his swimming friends need to actually make it in. Sadly for us, conception does not occur by osmosis.

Now I’m struggling not to pressure him for intercourse, to not get upset at the utter WASTE of his swimming sperms when our “love time” results in non-penetration. We’ve talked about it, but of course PapaBean also struggles with generalized anxiety, so I have to be careful how I approach topics so as not to stress him out. (Ok, it sounds like we have shitty communication skills, but honestly this is the only area where we struggle communication wise). I recognize that even when sex can happen at the drop of the hat it becomes a “chore” and stressful- but at least it CAN happen that easily.

We’re moving towards him feeling comfortable discussing this with our family doc, (or my Naturopath at least), but again I want to be supportive without being bossy. I want him to feel comfortable sharing this when he’s ready.

I’m insanely jealous of those couples who can look at their temp/cervical mucous calendar and go “gee, we should have sex RIGHT NOW” and it happens. It would be like living in a world of unicorns and rainbows…

The Secrecy Around Trying to Conceive

I’m having a definite love-hate relationship with conception secrecy, privacy and community.

I’ve noticed that for the most part women don’t announce or share when they’re trying to conceive. Over the years I’ve heard of elaborate lengths women have gone to hide the fact that they are “trying”. And sadly, for good reason.

I’m from a miniscule, microscopic Canadian village where everyone knows everyone, no one locks their doors and baby (wedding, house) showers are stupendously giving. For a woman trying to conceive, this can be a recipe for awkwardness (and rumours). I’ve been privy (and I will admit, have participated) in so many whispered gossiping that my husband and I made the decision to keep our baby making adventure a secret.

A year later with no success and I’m so glad we did.

There is without a doubt no way I want to be the topic of the condescending, patronizing gossip of “Did you hear? Poor things’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while now” “Are they still trying? Oh that is so sad, she must be so upset”, insert pitying glances/thoughts.

So Top Secret Status it is.

But as the months (and now year…) go on, pressure from the in-laws is increasing, and reasons why we’re “waiting” to have children get more dubious. I’m feeling angry and alone with no one to talk to, with no supporting community who “gets” this surprisingly difficult and, I’m embarrassed to say, all consuming part of my (our) life.

And so… la raison d’être for this blog, this “MamanBean” secret identity: a compromise with anonymity and the search for a feeling of support and community. Hears to hoping.