If men think about sex every 7 seconds (my husband confirms that fact), then I think about infertility every 3 seconds.
This is how my day goes. In the interest of space, I'll go in 20 minute increments rather than 3 seconds.
11:20 PM - 7:00 AM: Sleeping. Infertility is in my dreams. Sometimes it takes the form of babysitting someone else's child, and having something go horribly wrong. I think I have insecurities of if I would be a good mother. Before you comment, I know I would be. But at night, your mind defies using logic and for whatever reason, that seed is planted in there. It is never my child though. I don't know what that means.
7:00 AM: My alarm wakes me up. I hit snooze, take my basal temperature, copy it down. I take note of how I feel. Is this going to be a pain-free day or a painful day? Nothing aching. Fantastic. I go back to sleep.
7:20 AM: Snooze.
7:40 AM: Yawn. I pet the dog who has wedged into my side for warmth and wander to the computer to officially record my temperature for the day. I check my email. I get a weekly email from a fertility clinic in the States which can have some useful information. "5 Ways to Re-Think Fertility and Stress". Breath deep, huh? Mind-boggling. I think that one day the computer room will be a baby room, like the people we bought the house from. Maybe. Please?
8:00 AM: I look at the treadmill. I stand there and wonder, will losing 10 pounds really help my
fertility? I finally decide, what if it does? I become a mouse in a running wheel.
8:20 AM: Still a mouse.
8:40 AM: This had better be worth it.
9:00 AM: Shower. My collection of abdominal scars are still there. I think about what day it is in my cycle. I need to warn my husband if ovulation is approaching. He needs to know the schedule. After Day 10, those swimmers are MINE.
9:20 AM: Three cups of hot water and an egg. My acupuncturist says this is a perfect start to the morning. My friend who referred me to her described her as "the Chinese mother you never had" and she is right. I drink the water and eat the egg for fear of scolding. And I haven't seen her in months! She has that effect (but is a very sweet lady). I grab my pillbox and take my daily dose of CoQ10, prenatal vitamin, vitamin C, vitamin D, fish oil, royal jelly, folic acid. Maybe I should make an appointment with her...
9:40 AM: Heading out the door, I run into my little old Portuguese neighbour. I cringe a bit, because I know what is coming next. She starts crying about her son who passed away last year of cancer. Gods, I would rather not be pregnant than lose a child. I don't think I could survive. I am definitely not strong enough. I hug her, she sniffs, and I get to my bus stop.
10:00 AM: I'm on public transit. I manage to be wedged between two strollers. The babies are gurgling at me. I swear they always look at me. Depending on my mood, I either (a) look and smile at the baby/mother, (b) ignore them as if they don't exist, or (c) get up and run away. Most days it's (b).
10:20 AM: Arrive at work. Log onto my email and check my email. The email that I probably most look forward to is my friend Sarah. In the past, we've been each other's support in our infertility journeys. Now that she is pregnant, she is, of course, STILL supportive.
10:40 AM - 12:00 PM: Work, with a bit of fertility surfing.
12:00 PM: Head down to the dungeon (aka my work's basement) where they've squirreled away the microwaves in a tiny, smelly room. I go down with my co-worker, who is thinking about her fourth IVF attempt. We often use the walk down as a sanity check for the day.
12:20 PM: Back at my desk. Munching on my no-wheat, no-red meat, no dairy, no sugary lunch. This would be the endo diet. It's supposed to help calm endo, since it seems almost everything we eat is an inflammatory. Not fun. The running joke with my friend: if I succeed with the endo diet, I can reward myself with broccoli! (oooh aaah)
1:00 PM: I grab a little glass jar I have and head to the washroom. I pee in it, invariably getting some on my hand. Ew. Sterile right? Dip my ovulation strip in and watch for two lines. Dream that it's a home pregnancy test. Snap back and flush and return to desk with test strip hidden in hand.
1:20 PM - 6:20 PM: Work, with a bit more fertility surfing. These days, it's ICLW blogs. And how to increase ovarian reserves. If it's very close to O time, then definitely more peeing into a little jar. I message my good friend of mine (and co-worker) throughout the day. He and his wife have been trying the same as us, and are just looking at fertility clinics now. Most days, we don't talk about it, some days it comes up. (Might I mention, I do have co-workers that do not have infertility. Just so happens that my close ones at work do - and they were my close friends before we all found out about each other.)
6:20 PM: Head out from work. I think about future blog entries. I can't use all of my good material at the beginning with nothing to write about later on!
7:00 PM: Get home. Make food for my husband, and something that fits the endo diet for me. Sometimes, I cheat. I don't know how people can do it 100%. When I open my fridge, I have $4000 in fertility meds staring at me, ready to be used for my upcoming IVF cycle. Let's see... milk... tomatoes... Gonal F... oh THERE's the cauliflower!
7:20 PM: Dog and husband arrive back from their walk. Happy to receive hugs and kisses from them both! The dog of course expects a second dinner.
8:00 PM: Dinner at the table. Dog looks longingly. Husband starts to bend. Strict rules apply: no feeding from the table! I will so be the disciplinarian if we have a child...
8:20 PM - 11:00 PM: TV/movies (possibly cringing when there is something to do with pregnancy or babies) or Xbox (where I am concentrating too much on shooting the enemy to think about fertility) with the husband. Or, if it's that time of the month, we may be doing other things!
11:20 PM: And the cycle starts over again...