Stupid tests!

Hi Jade. Howzit Jed.

Hope you guys are doing well. I’m doing ok – a bit of a bundle of nerves today – we’re off to the Fertility Specialist this afternoon to get feedback on the month-long treatment I’ve been on…

I’ve noticed something about Infertility – you really have to learn an awful lot of stuff. You have to learn all about biology, especially the bit that affects your own situation, you have to study the treatment options with their likely success rates (if they give you any), you have to learn how to make tough decisions, how to stick with the decisions you’ve made, how to cope with stress and an all-consuming issue that seems to take over your life, how to deal with disappointment so earth shattering that you actually wish the earth would shatter and swallow you up…so much to learn! God only knows how stupid people deal with all this!!

I’ve spent the last 4 weeks quietly ‘assuming the position’ three times a week so that your mom could jab me in the backside and inject the Pregnyl. It’s a funny thing taking these sorts of injections…you find yourself lying in bed when the lights are off, desperately trying to feel whether or not the injection is having any effect. Now I’m sure this is fairly normal for anyone receiving a shot, but the difference between this and say an anti-histamine shot, or a flu jab is that, with them, you don’t lay there trying to decide if your testicles feel different from the inside! You don’t look down and wonder are they ‘floppier’ than normal, are you feeling hornier than normal (a question that will straight away results in the answer being No – because you don’t feel horny or sexy when it comes to any infertility treatment). This is even worse when the whole point of the jabs is to get your body to start producing its own testosterone! Because the only way I can judge my T levels is my libido (because counting the pimples that result from high T levels is not so easy when they seem to be on your back and shoulders). You start analysing every single twinge, twitch or reaction. Is it a good sign that I’m lying in bed this morning watching your mom blow-dry her hair and I fancy jumping her bones. Is it a bad sign that I’ve only thought about sex 23 times this hour. Hang on, there’s a scantily clad women on the TV and I don’t have a hard-on – oh no, it’s not working…

So you see my dilemma. I spent the first 4 days obsessing over every little sign – but then wondered whether it was too early to see any results. So I decided that I needed to stop thinking about it and just wait till we get the results, because, in my view, thinking about things too much throws all your ‘readings’ way out anyway, especially when it comes to your libido…So, the only answer was to try and forget all about it, and for the most part, I’ve been fairly successful.

Your mom brought it up a few times, but I tried to drop the subject as soon as I could without upsetting her by being uncommunicative or difficult. I had lots of work to do which was a great help. I took up a new hobby – one I’ve been playing with the idea of for years. I got some wood from Granddad, bought some chisels and gouges and a Dremel multitool thingymajig and have started wood carving. It was a long weekend last weekend, so mom and I tidied up the workshop and I spent two days in there chipping away at a piece of wood.

Now your mom hasn’t been blessed with oodles of patience. She’s more of an instant gratification kinda girl in many respects. So, I think she was gob-smacked at what I’d done for the two days when she came to see how I had progressed. I could see it in her eyes – the look that said “Crickey, 12 hours and that’s all you’ve done! Aren’t your bored yet? Why don’t you just buy something similar? What did you do for the other 11 and a half hours in here? How many years is that gonna take you to finish? Why are you bothering?”

And here’s the thing…I had been whittling away at this little design for 12 hours, happy as a pig in shit. Because while I was sitting there, hunched over that poxy block of wood, I didn’t once think about the injections, their effects and the looming results we’d be receiving from the FS today.

I mentioned the Men are from Mars, Women from Venus book in my last post. One of the theories in the book are that men withdraw into their ‘cave’ when they’re under stress. They withdraw within themselves to figure out a solution to their problems. And maybe this is fairly accurate. I spent two whole days stuck in my little cave of a workshop, pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist, because I could feel the blood test and this FS appointment rapidly approaching like a runaway train coming to flatten me. I knew we were getting to another intersection in our Infertility Journey.

That’s something else about Infertility. Not only do you have to learn heaps, the whole journey is littered with intersections. Those pass or fail points, those blood tests or scan results, those 2 week waits, those doubling beta’s, those 6 weeks till the first scan, that first trimester – every time you look around there’s something rushing towards you… some deadline or target date, some test result, something to look forward to and dread at the same time.

At school, I was one of those kids who paid attention in class. There were a couple of reasons for this. Firstly I have an inquisitive mind. I want to know the how and why for everything. I also love learning new things. Another reason I paid attention in class was that I didn’t have the discipline to study at home, so I needed to pay attention in class to learn what I needed to learn. As a result, I was always the one with my hand in the air when the teacher asked a question. I knew what was going on (most of the time) and seemed to be totally on top of my work…but I just never really learned how to study. This was never a problem with the small tests in class, but caused big issues when it came exam time. I would be flying through the subjects all year, then exam time came and it was diabolical. I started to dread exams, and even this dread never motivated me to study properly. So, the net result was I love learning, but hate tests.

In junior school, when someone was being really stupid, we used to say that they were so dumb, they would fail a blood test.

Now I’m just about to get ready to go off to the FS and I’m desperately hoping I’m not that stupid!!

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~ by HopelesslyTTC on 29/09/2009.

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