Month: June 2016

This week I have been consumed with worry.
We made a big decision to be part of the PIP Study. (Pipelle Study)
Its a study conducted for unexplained infertility – they have already done one for IVF and this is the next step (so I understand)

When i first heard about the PIP study, we had only just had our first appointment at the Fertility clinic. I didn’t really start thinking about it seriously until our IUI failed. When i spoke to my husband about it, he told me it was my decision because I would be the one to go through the procedure.

If you don’t know about the study, the basic gist is, there are two groups, one group is the control group which have a procedure where their uterine lining is “scratched” the other group is the placebo group where they go through the motions of the procedure but they don’t actually get their lining scratched.

From my understand, the idea of the study is to see if scratching the lining will help with cell regeneration and help with an embryo implanting during the implantation process.

The way i think of it is this: when you cut yourself, a bunch of new blood forms and helps your wound heal. The blood rushing to the scratch in the lining to help heal the wound and may provide a great place for an embryo to implant and therefore start a pregnancy.

The reason I have been worrying is because you aren’t allowed to take on any other kind of fertility treatment for the 3 months you are under a the study. Now we had already sort of made the decision not to have any treatment until after our honeymoon in September but I still struggled with this concept.

The other half of my worry comes from the fact that I could be put in the placebo group. I mean come on, you have to battle Auckland traffic to undergo a “procedure” that you pin your hopes on to help your dream come true and then you find out you didn’t even get the scratch done! See my dilemma? Apparently you can get the scratch done at the end if you were in placebo group but what the hell. That’s not selling it for me.

I also battled with how much my heart and my mind could take. I haven battled depression before so starting fertility treatments was a big, emotional mine field for me. It helps that my husband and I decided to get married first, I’m not sure why but for some reason, seeing that ring on my finger makes me feel safe, in a way I didn’t feel before the wedding. (please note, I have no judgement for those of you who start this journey before marriage!) 

In the end, after talking it over with my girlfriends and talking to Sarah, the lady who runs the study, I decided – what the hell. What have I got to lose?

So I am booked in for this Thursday and I am shitting bricks about being part of this study. And still worrying.

I worry it won’t work. And my husband will have to pick me up off the toilet floor, in a puddle of tears, trying to console me when he is just as devastated that another month has gone by.

I worry it will work, and that we will be so joyously happy but then something will go wrong.

I worry it won’t work, and all my insecurities will flood through me and I will lose myself in a black hole of sadness like I have so many, many times before.

I worry it will work, and we will bring a child into this world and then I will screw something up. That I will be a terrible mother, or I will end up with Post Partum and my husband will be left to try and take care of a newborn and a wife who can’t seem to get out of her head.

None of this worrying is healthy for me but I have to acknowledge it. I have to deal with all these feelings because if I don’t – it will consume me. I have a great support network of friends and family. That is priceless.

I have learned that it’s OK to worry. It’s completely normal to have doubts, especially when the one thing you want the most in the world, has been naturally denied from you.

What I haven learnt is not OK, is to let it take over your thoughts and control you.

I will be part of this study. Its for a good cause. This could help thousands of women become pregnant. It could even help me. So I am going to think positive, if I am in the placebo group then that’s OK. I can get the scratch done at the end of the 3 months. If it doesn’t work, that’s OK – I will get to go to Disney Land during my holiday and ride all the roller coasters I want.

months. I swear to god, the next person that tells me a story about how their sister-in-laws, best friends, brothers girlfriend who had been trying for years and then as soon as they “just relaxed” got pregnant… seriously!

Don’t get me wrong, I am happy when I hear success stories but this month, I am OVER IT! I am so sick of hearing “just relax” or “go on holiday, that’s how we got pregnant”. Yes, we have unexplained infertility which means, technically, there is nothing wrong but that’s does not mean that “just relaxing” is going to help us.

Every time someone asks us “When are you guys going to have kids?” a little crack appears in my facade. I know people mean well but they have no idea how much this question hurts me. Hurts us. If there is one thing I have learnt throughout this ordeal is that I will NEVER ask a newly married couple, in fact ANY couple, when they are planning to have children. Someone else’s baby plans are none of my damn business.

Every time someone tells us “You will know what it’s like when you have children of your own” a little piece of my mask falls away. I realise children are a big responsibility, I realise they are hard work. That doesn’t mean that it makes me want one any less. I have had more time than you to think about the responsibilities of having a child. I have read every book I could find, I know what to expect. I don’t have some unrealistic view of what it will be like. I don’t think my child will be perfect, but when they arrive – they will be mine. And I will love them with all my heart.

Every time someone tells us “at least you can sleep in on Sundays!” a little piece of my heart chips off. I don’t want to sleep in, I actually WANT to be woken by the soft cries of a baby or the pitter-patter of a small child feet as they run into our room every morning.

Every time a pregnant woman complains about her pregnancy, a little piece of me crumbles. You have no idea how much I want your weight gain, your swollen feet, your sore back. It would beat the monthly tears and heartache every time AF shows up. I would gladly toss my cookies each morning if it meant I would have a baby to hold at the end of those 9 months.

Every time someone says “It could be worse you know” I want to punch them in the face. Like our struggle with fertility is somehow a ‘lesser evil’. I know its wrong to have that reaction but who are you to put our pain below something else? Who decided you were the shot caller when it comes to the grief scale? Who put you in charge of the pain-o-meter?

And one time, someone told me “maybe you aren’t meant to be parents”. I actually broke down in tears at this comment. Fuck you. That’s all I have to say to that. Fuck. You.

I have said it before, and I will say it again.

Infertility is a Bitch.

Unexplained Infertility is more of a Bitch.