Yesterday I laid on a table for 45 minutes, with 22 needles strategically placed in my body to stimulate hormone release and encourage healthy ovulation.
The last thing I heard my acupuncturist say was, “manifest a healthy baby living inside of you.” A sense of sadness, immediately replaced with hope and then I drifted off into a deep sleep.
Unexplained infertility is what the doctors call it.
We call it one of the toughest challenges in our lives.
People ask me what I’ve tried…organic foods, clomid, acupuncture, basal thermometer, vitamins, herbs, essential oils, femoral massages, ovulation kits, detoxifying our bodies, no coffee, only warm foods and drinks, no alcohol except red wine, eating pineapple every day, foot soaks, giving up running, Chinese medicine, traditional medicine…
You name it, we’ve tried it.
Sex has taken on a different meaning. My husband and I have become closer in a way I never imagined. Peeing on some sort of stick has become an almost normal occurrence (ovulation, uti, pregnancy tests). Ovulation apps rule my phone. A calendar on my desk tracks things that I never thought I’d have to track or know (you haven’t lived until you’ve watched videos about cervical mucus).
Tomorrow is our last appointment with my regular obgyn and then we are handed off to an infertility specialist; new doctors, another round of tests and the recommendation of budget-busting procedures that insurance won’t touch with a ten foot pole.
We are both scared of the unknown and feel powerless in a powerful way.
It’s been a wild ride on the hormone rollercoaster; a ride that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Every month there are highs and lows, sadness and happiness, optimism and pessimism and gobs of other emotions that make me feel like a crazed lunatic.
As a life coach, I look for a purpose or positivity in almost everything. This time, I have come up short.
Searching for meaning has become painful, not empowering.
It’s created a block in my life and in my writing.
Lots of things that used to feel important feel insignificant in comparison
Rather than getting stuck in the fear, I choose to focus on what I can do one day at a time and some days it’s one hour at a time. I choose to cry when I want to cry, talk when I need to talk and suck it up when I need a mental break.
The answer is that there is no answer right now. We both have to be okay with that and help each other through the confusion and sadness every month.
The next step holds more optimism and another set of hearts to our team. We’re more ready now than we were 17 months ago and become more so every month that passes by.