Autumn of my fertility. I admit, it’s not quite as exciting as autumn itself. Waking up this morning, I didn’t even need to experience the 64 degree temperature first-hand. Just seeing it in the lower left corner of my local TV news was good enough to get me pumped up. Then there was the autumn of my fertility: Getting married at 38 1/2+ and, for an entire year trying to get pregnant naturally by myself (well, not totally by myself. I’m not a complete idiot.) Continue reading
Labor Day is almost upon us again in the US. Okay, so I’m not saying I’m paranoid, but while I was going through infertility and treatments, I always took “Labor” Day as a personal affront to me and my kind. Just another conspiracy to screw with those trying to conceive I think. I mean it’s great everyone gets a long weekend off…
I know. To all of those who live somewhere where there is a Labor Day, only those trying to conceive could be offended. Most holidays offend us, or at least hurt our feelings. So why should Labor Day be any different? It’s just the beginning: Continue reading
When I suggest people try online infertility support groups, I’m sometimes met with: “Why would I want to tell my personal infertility business to total strangers?” That’s it. That’s exactly why you want to go onto online infertility support groups: Because everyone is a total stranger.
Like a good mechanic, a good doctor is hard to find. But fertility doctors seems to be a little bit different. The vast majority I’ve dealt with have been amazing: Very caring. Very dedicated. A few were arrogant asses. They still seemed to be excellent doctors. Just arrogant asses. Unfortunately, I’m not good with arrogant asses… and neither is my big mouth. You’d think by now we’d both be mature enough to just ignore them, but no.
Not only don’t I think all nurses are created equal, I don’t think all nurses’ jobs are created equal. Even if I could pass all of the medical, scientific stuff (which is highly unlikely), I’d fail miserably at the “bedside manner” stuff. Maybe I could slide by as an emergency room nurse where you see the person, then they leave. Or at a doctor’s office where you take blood pressure and temperature, ship them off to the doctor, then they leave. But never an IVF nurse. You take their blood and they leave. Then a few days later they come back. Then a few days later, they come back. Then a few days later, they come back. You’ve surely heard the expression: “Familiarity breeds contempt”. I can’t think of a place that contempt would breed faster for me than at a fertility clinic. I was a fertility clinic patient for a year. I would have no patience for those patients. It was hard enough to be me, now I’d have to deal with me?
What is an infertility graduate? Well, an infertility graduate is like any other graduate, the main difference being that any other graduate isn’t accustomed to wearing a gown that leaves your bare ass hanging out like an infertility graduate is.
Not everyone of course who is done with infertility and treatments considers themselves an infertility graduate. People tend to stop treatments for one of two main reasons:
I recently talked to an ex-boyfriend who is having marital issues. (You know it sounded normal to me until I just typed it.) He and his wife had been going through infertility issues for about ten years of their fourteen year marriage. Can you even separate infertility from your marriage at that point? Or is it like you think of infertility and you think of your marriage like they’re interchangeable? All I know is that these two didn’t talk to anybody who had been through infertility or join any online groups or support groups or anything. They kind of just kept it to themselves and told a few close friends / family members who, as we’ve all witnessed first-hand, usually either say nothing or the wrong thing just because they don’t know what the hell to say. I mean, who would know what to say? Even if you’ve been through it, it’s hard to know what to say to each individual sometimes.
Helen Adrienne is a well-respected therapist in NYC who specializes in individuals and couples dealing with infertility. So what you’ll be getting from her today will be tried and true sound advice unlike the smart-ass remarks you typically get from me. She talks about both men who have their own fertility issues as well as men dealing with an infertile wife who’s turned into a nutjob. (I don’t think Helen actually uses the word “nutjob” though, but I know from personal experience, that’s exactly what you turn into.)
Although my 84 year old father lived among a lot of couples in his retirement community in Florida, I couldn’t help noticing every time I visited that he spent much more time talking with the women than the men. Finally I decided to ask him why that was: “Well, the wives are all very nice.” He said. “But their husbands are a bunch of schmucks.”
So while we may not be in a position to, or at all interested in, celebrating Father’s Day this year, I propose an alternate holiday:
“Thank You for Not Being a Schmuck” Month.
Your spouse/partner/husband–whatever he is– probably does some things that irritate you. That’s normal, of course. And yet, even with those small annoyances, minor aggravations and colossal pet peeves that drive you up a fkn wall… He’s the one, the only one, you’ve hand-picked to have calendar-induced copulation with and to sire your future children. You know you wouldn’t have your eggs in a freezer, snuggling together for warmth with anyone else’s sperm.
So he’s not perfect…