I thought of a new word for infertiles: pregnancy virgins.
That's all.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
The "soft" costs of infertility
It's tax season and all of the deductions and exemptions, like number of children and child tax credits, stick out like a sore thumb - another slam to the infertiles. I think that "attempts at having children" or "number of tried children (i.e. embryos)" should count for something, but alas they do not.
Sure I've spent more than I care to think about on fertility treatments, acupuncture, the many, many prescriptions, OPKs, HPTs, and other "hard" expenses. But, what about the "soft" costs?
I'm talking about the gallons of ice cream, Oreos, bottles of wine and margaritas. I can also add massages for stress, expensive purses bought as retail therapy, and interventional vacations to the tally.
While I'm at it, I can include therapy sessions, anti-depressants, minutes on my cell phone venting to my family and friends and days that I've taken off work to "re-group."
Adding all that up over a six-year period starts to be quite a big number. And, don't forget the cost of the loss of a dream, but that's a whole other story.
What am I forgetting or what "soft" costs have you incurred?
Sure I've spent more than I care to think about on fertility treatments, acupuncture, the many, many prescriptions, OPKs, HPTs, and other "hard" expenses. But, what about the "soft" costs?
I'm talking about the gallons of ice cream, Oreos, bottles of wine and margaritas. I can also add massages for stress, expensive purses bought as retail therapy, and interventional vacations to the tally.
While I'm at it, I can include therapy sessions, anti-depressants, minutes on my cell phone venting to my family and friends and days that I've taken off work to "re-group."
Adding all that up over a six-year period starts to be quite a big number. And, don't forget the cost of the loss of a dream, but that's a whole other story.
What am I forgetting or what "soft" costs have you incurred?
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Perhaps I should clean more often
I bought my car back in 2004 - a Honda Pilot with 4-wheel drive. We bought it specifically because we were moving to Montreal and needed a snow-worthy vehicle and because we thought that we'd soon be filling it with bundles of joy (at the time, it was one of the safer SUVs on the market).
Fast forward to 2011 and I still have my car, but the only "kids" that grace it have four legs, and don't use car seats. Instead of having crushed cheerios scattered in crevices and sticky fingerprints on the doors, I have a lot of shedded yellow dog hair and noseprints on the windows.
Anyway, I only do a deep cleaning of my car about twice a year - once in the spring and once in the fall. And, as gross as it may sound, I have never cleaned out the contents of the console between the front seats. Today was the day.
In it, I found three decks of cards (from playing Rummy with my grandmother before she had a stroke last year), countless small bottles of hand lotion eternally encrusted with goop, hand sanitizer, a few water bottle caps and several old receipts (one dated 2006) and other miscellaneous notions - those things hold a lot more than you might think. And, at the very bottom laying among a permanent marker and a couple of corroding AAA batteries, were my old alcohol wipes and an unused and still packaged syringe from my IVF days.
What's strange is that I don't remember putting them there, and I'm wondering where the vial for the follistem or Ovidrel was (maybe it was in a cooler that's still wedged under my seat -- I didn't get that far in the cleaning process).
However, it was a reminder of how tethered I was to my meds and doctor's office - to the point of outfitting my car with the needed supplies. Perhaps I was afraid of veering off course and being lost for days without my meds or in a traffic jam and unable to be at home in time to do my carefully scheduled shot.
Again, for some reason, I have no recollection of putting that stuff in there. Maybe I blocked it from my memory for a reason.
Ever found your old fertility stuff somewhere strange - or even years later?
Fast forward to 2011 and I still have my car, but the only "kids" that grace it have four legs, and don't use car seats. Instead of having crushed cheerios scattered in crevices and sticky fingerprints on the doors, I have a lot of shedded yellow dog hair and noseprints on the windows.
Anyway, I only do a deep cleaning of my car about twice a year - once in the spring and once in the fall. And, as gross as it may sound, I have never cleaned out the contents of the console between the front seats. Today was the day.
In it, I found three decks of cards (from playing Rummy with my grandmother before she had a stroke last year), countless small bottles of hand lotion eternally encrusted with goop, hand sanitizer, a few water bottle caps and several old receipts (one dated 2006) and other miscellaneous notions - those things hold a lot more than you might think. And, at the very bottom laying among a permanent marker and a couple of corroding AAA batteries, were my old alcohol wipes and an unused and still packaged syringe from my IVF days.
What's strange is that I don't remember putting them there, and I'm wondering where the vial for the follistem or Ovidrel was (maybe it was in a cooler that's still wedged under my seat -- I didn't get that far in the cleaning process).
However, it was a reminder of how tethered I was to my meds and doctor's office - to the point of outfitting my car with the needed supplies. Perhaps I was afraid of veering off course and being lost for days without my meds or in a traffic jam and unable to be at home in time to do my carefully scheduled shot.
Again, for some reason, I have no recollection of putting that stuff in there. Maybe I blocked it from my memory for a reason.
Ever found your old fertility stuff somewhere strange - or even years later?
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Sound Medicine - radio interview
Thought you guys might enjoy a radio interview I did giving my thoughts on infertility and this crazy journey we go through.
radio interview ">"For some, the baby-toting stork never arrives.
Indianapolis-based writer Lori LeRoy and her husband have struggled for years to have children, so far without success. Her husband urged her to keep a journal about their efforts to conceive, and the result is her book, The Inadequate Conception. In it, LeRoy treats the topic of infertility with humor and good sense."
radio interview ">"For some, the baby-toting stork never arrives.
Indianapolis-based writer Lori LeRoy and her husband have struggled for years to have children, so far without success. Her husband urged her to keep a journal about their efforts to conceive, and the result is her book, The Inadequate Conception. In it, LeRoy treats the topic of infertility with humor and good sense."
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Puking and Pooing and Up All Night - My pets make me feel like a mom
I wrote a post similar to this last May when my dog ate rat poison. I was a nervous wreck, but remained cool, calm, and collected, calling the emergency vet and Animal Poison Control. Waiting up with her all night, listening to her breathe while she slept on the pillow next to me. She ended up being totally fine, and it shook my nerves to the core, but what really stunned me was how in control I was about the whole situation. I truly felt like a mom during those few days until I knew she'd be alright.
The stomach flu is running its vengence around town - my colleages have been out of the office taking care of their children who are up all night vomiting, nursing them with cold compresses and Gatorade. They come back to work, eyes bleary and downing coffee to keep alert.
When my darling yellow labs were not so darling a few weeks ago, I experienced the same thing. They found a way into the closet where we keep the dog food, and ate about 20 pounds of kibble. Their stomachs were noticeably larger and I was terrified that they'd get Bloat, a dangerous condition dogs can get from eating too much or too fast. And, so went a night of getting up every two hours to take them out to poo, and worrying about their intestinal track.
And, although we raced out the door to the backyard for their relief, we still found some unsavory piles in our brand new carpet pile.
On top of that, one of our cats (or perhaps more than one of them), vomited on our brand new chair. As I'm sure other moms can attest, thank goodness for ScotchGuard.
And, although we thought the closet and the food was secure. We were wrong. A day later was round two of pooping puppies.
So, after 48 hours of cleaning up my pets' bodily fluids, and being up for two straight nights, I know what it's like to be a sleep-deprived, poo and puke-cleaning mom.
The stomach flu is running its vengence around town - my colleages have been out of the office taking care of their children who are up all night vomiting, nursing them with cold compresses and Gatorade. They come back to work, eyes bleary and downing coffee to keep alert.
When my darling yellow labs were not so darling a few weeks ago, I experienced the same thing. They found a way into the closet where we keep the dog food, and ate about 20 pounds of kibble. Their stomachs were noticeably larger and I was terrified that they'd get Bloat, a dangerous condition dogs can get from eating too much or too fast. And, so went a night of getting up every two hours to take them out to poo, and worrying about their intestinal track.
And, although we raced out the door to the backyard for their relief, we still found some unsavory piles in our brand new carpet pile.
On top of that, one of our cats (or perhaps more than one of them), vomited on our brand new chair. As I'm sure other moms can attest, thank goodness for ScotchGuard.
And, although we thought the closet and the food was secure. We were wrong. A day later was round two of pooping puppies.
So, after 48 hours of cleaning up my pets' bodily fluids, and being up for two straight nights, I know what it's like to be a sleep-deprived, poo and puke-cleaning mom.
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