Treat yourself to the Two Week Wait Cocktail!

Ladies, you’ve been through a lot. You’ve had your veins punctured, your uterine lining examined, your fallopian tubes possibly shot up with blue dye, your ovaries probed with a giant “wand.” You’ve had your eggs harvested and then sucked out of your body via a giant needle stabbed through your womb. You’ve been injected with hormones, forced to publicly declare that you’re “full flow,” subjected to never ending calls with your insurance company, and repeatedly financially gouged. Not to mention all the time – my GOD the time! – spent waiting for phone calls, or for the start of cycles, or for test results, or spent sitting in a doctor’s/hospital’s office/lobby, sometimes in a paper-thin gown & robe sans bra amongst a room full of rando husbands.

Aren’t you due for a little r&r? A little me time? A little treat? Well have I got the thing for you! Introducing The Two-Week Wait, aka The Implanted Egg, aka The Womb Swizzler.

INGREDIENTS

  • 1 cup bone broth (beef or chicken, your choice!)
  • 1 slice pineapple core
  • 1 ml progesterone oil
  • 1 pre-natal vitamin
  • 1 fish oil capsule
  • 1 rose hips capsule
  • 1 baby aspirin
  • 2 estrogen patches

DIRECTIONS

  1. Warm the bone broth
  2. Crush pre-natal vitamin, baby aspirin, fish oil capsule, and rose hips capsule
  3. Mix with progesterone oil
  4. Add mixture to bone broth, stir well
  5. Add pineapple core, making sure the pineapple is fully submerged and soaks up all that bone broth mixture goodness
  6. Garnish with estrogen patches

Now kick back and relax and enjoy your cocktail while listening to your post-transfer daily affirmations! Repeat after me, my uterus is strong and supple…

(Warning: cocktail may induce gagging, nausea, diarrhea, irritability, breast pain, stomach cramps, skin irritation, bloating, acne, dizziness, joint pain, mild headaches, hot flashes, and yes, wild mood swings.)

Transfer #5, here we come

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Today’s the big day – our 5th transfer, this time a frozen embryo transfer. As I write this I am waiting for the call from the doctor’s office confirming that we’re doing day 3 (today) versus day 5 (Friday – which is unlikely. We’ve always done day 3 because according to my doctor my embryos dislike the petri dish, which apparently is a whole thing and has nothing to do with quality. So what, they’re like classy? Looking around that petri dish all like, meh. Side note, I’ve noticed that I have a pavlovian response to my phone vibrating when I’m waiting for the doctor or nurse to call wherein dread floods my system, like my body is primed for more bad news).

I am trying not to be nervous, but of course I’m nervous as all get out. I HATE the two week wait. While all the other pre-retrieval and/or transfer shit is awful you at least feel proactive. During the two week wait you’re just…waiting.

But I’ve got my check list for today, which includes:

  • No work (thank you sick days)
  • Light exercise to get the blood flowing and relieve stress (done)
  • Pre-transfer acupuncture (done)
  • Hypnotherapy downloads on my phone to listen to while I lay there directly after the transfer
  • Post-transfer acupuncture appointment
  • Pineapple waiting to be cut up so I can eat that frickin core
  • Bone broth, to be purchased later by my lovely husband
  • Loads of funny Netflix shows (and yes I may or may not have been rewatching Gilmore Girls Season 1 Episode 15 “Christopher Returns” this morning)

Here’s to one those little fuckers getting their shit together and actually implanting in my “perfect” uterine lining. Sorry guys, I had to brag about my uterine lining because when do you ever hear “perfect” in this infertility game?

Words of advice I never need to hear again

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“Have you tried charting your ovulation?” Oh wow, thanks. I hadn’t considered that even though it is literally the first thing that anyone who is trying to have a baby does when things aren’t working.

“Have you tried [insert some non-western and/or non-traditional approach like acupuncture or yoga or the paleo diet]?” Yes, I’ve tried it all. All of it. EVERYTHING.

“Have you considered [insert some medical treatment]?” Yes – and let me acknowledge that while you are well meaning, I actually have a pretty well trained team of professionals who are on the case and don’t really have time to get several medical degrees so that I can self diagnose and draft a full treatment plan.

“Don’t worry, it will happen for you!” Or maybe it won’t! How do you know? The world is filled with people who worked really hard, and tried to think optimistically, and still didn’t get what they wanted. To quote one of my favorite books, “Life is not a wish granting factory.”

“You just need to relax.” or “It’ll happen once you stop trying.” Sure, for 1 in 5 billion people struggling with infertility this is actually happens. But for a lot of us there are reasons things aren’t happening that have nothing to do with relaxation. Also, ALSO, its really fucking hard to relax when your biological clock is ticking and you know that you better make it happen now or never and you’ve been at it for years and are pumped full of hormones and feel emotionally brittle and financially strapped.

“God will provide.” Fuck. That. First of all, you presume a lot about my religious beliefs. Secondly, even if we are literally kneeling in a church pew when you say this, this isn’t just about hard prayer. There’s actually a shit ton of complicated science involved here, so please just quit it.

“Everything happens for a reason.” Oh really? Like Syria? Like Darfur? Like the Holocaust? Also fuck. That.

“You can always adopt.” I’m pretty well aware of that fact, and I have probably had a lot of tear-filled late night conversations with my significant other about what we will do if we can’t have a baby, so also please just quit it.

“You know, it took us a few months too, so I totally get what you’re going through.” No you don’t. You really, really don’t. And I actually wouldn’t wish it on you. But please stop trying to compare our situations.