That was quite a week, I must say. The sort of week that makes me happy to be back at work, on a national holiday. The celebratory pre-birth event came off fairly well. Here are some highlights. Cucumber sandwiches, artfully arranged. My contribution to our actually very successful mobile. What I will now forever think of as Tears of the Infertile cupcakes. And the part of the event that made me need to leave the room and cry and cry.
I'm guessing when the first item of baby clothing is opened it's common to marvel over the fact that the expectant mother will soon produce a human being that will rapidly become large enough to fit in it. So there's everyone else, exclaiming over the fact that the entity in PBF's belly will actually turn into a real human baby. And there's me, belly all swollen and full of holes, uterus all crampy with the onset of my period... I just felt so deeply pathetic and defective and unwomanly. I had five shots of vodka during this event, and two of them were required after that particular moment. One for me, and one for a private toast to all of you.
Now, you might be thinking, But didn't you just get some fairly positive news about the state of your reproductive organs? Why so glum, bunny? Well, to begin with, my husband is a confirmed optimist. I actually didn't know this about him until we started dealing with IF. It just never occurred to me that anyone could possibly be an optimist. But he is, and because I have only his post op report to go by until the 26th, I am cautious. It's entirely possible that the RE actually said, NO ENDOMETRIOSIS except for this enormous patch here which we couldn't get rid of and I THINK IUI WILL WORK for you never under any circumstances and I wish I had some GREAT NEWS to share with you but I'm afraid you'll never father a child with this woman. In short, Mr. Bunny can't be trusted.
Second, for me it has been important to accept the fact that I may not be able to conceive and bear a child. I don't go around telling myself I won't but I also don't go around telling myself I will. I used to, but there came a time when it was simply too much work to deny the terrible possibility. The upside is that I can rationally consider the wost case scenario, and this is an important coping strategy when dealing with anxiety. The downside is that I don't want to get my hopes up. I'm sure this is a familiar psychological state to many of you: Hoping with all your heart but suppressing that hope with much of your mind to stave off devastation. WELL, before my first IUI, I did some research on the question of the relationship between hope and disappointment. For example, if you don't expect a positive outcome, does that make a negative outcome easier to bear? Answers in my next post.