The first appointment

Around two months back, we finally decided on the fertility centre to move our IF journey forward. Fortunately, we did not have to wait a long time to get an appointment with the fertility specialist.  On the 4th Oct, we finally met the young FS, who went through our health records, asked us a lot of questions, and when it was clear to us that we were ready for IVF, she said she was OK for us to start straight away. She said IUI is not really something we need to try, as both of had no specific problems. She gave us tons of blood tests to perform, including AMI. Told us to book an appointment with the nurse ASAP, as it took up to a month to get an appointment, and I needed an appointment before I could start the next long down cycle. With the clinic closed for about a month for Christmas, it was important that I start in the next cycle. We both left the building with a happy face, perhaps we both felt that we had finally something positive to look forward to.

The call

That evening, we visit a couple who were very close friends (we didn't tell them about the appointment). Few hours in, we got a call that FIL is being rushed to the nearest hospital  because of a blood clot in his brain. FIL being a heart patient, both of us knew what the risks were. We finished dinner and went home with a heavy heart. The day had started well, but now we had lots of thoughts on our way back. I must admit some of mine were selfish, as  I was wondering if we would be able to go ahead with the next IVF cycle if anything happens. But mostly it was about fearing the worst, and hoping for the best.

The flight

The long weekend was quite dull while we prayed and tried our best to keep positive. We got news that FIL got slightly better, but the full recovery will be painstakingly slow, and not without risks. However, a few days later, his conditioned worsened, and DH decided to fly to India. Luckily, till today it is still good news, and FIL is not that critical anymore, but there is still danger, he is still in the ICU, and he still needs a lot of care. 

We had booked the nurses appointment in the meantime, done all the blood works, and I had even started to take the pills before DH left. I will go the the nurse's appointment alone, and perhaps start jabbing alone too, but I have all my fingers and toes crossed that things are still stable, and DH comes back in time for the EPU. I want that for both of us, but also because if we go ahead, it means FIL is OK, and in his path to recovery. I may not have spent too much time with him, but he is a nice man, and I respect and love him a lot, and really hope and pray that he comes out of this soon. 

Who is worse?

My brother thinks he is unlucky because he has had to struggle a bit more than a few people around him. It pisses me off. He only compares his life with others for the things he struggles in, instead of their life overall. I always say he has to see things in the bigger picture. I'd rather have these small struggles instead of big losses that the people he is comparing to has had, like losing their mom, or getting divorced, or working very hard years for their post graduate degree but not getting any jobs in the end and having to study a field that has no excitement for them. So what if they are able to build their own houses, earn more, or even get some head start in some of the things they did do, and didn't have to wait as long as he did? What they have now are well deserved, me thinks!

What about me?

Having said all that, I wonder if I am doing the same when I am thinking about my own infertility journey? I am reading about so many women who have tried for more than 5-6 years, have done more than 5-6 rounds of IVF, after countless IUI's. I have only tried for 2.5 years. For the first year or so, I am not even sure if we were BD'ing in the right window, as I was busier symptom spotting, and improving my diet than studying up on what I was doing wrong. Then in the second year, I was so busy at work that sometimes I slipped to bed at 3am, planning to get up at 7 or 8 the next day. Of course my DH did not feel like it lots of times when I tried to wake him up at 3am for some action nonetheless. Even if we did do the deed, I am pretty sure 'it' wasn't sustainable at the stress level I was on. So if I am to be brutally honest, I have only wholeheartedly, and with 100% informed mind tried for maybe last 8 months or so. That's what my DH thinks as well. 

But I refuse to believe that I can just wait for few more months until it is around 12. I have done several tests, and the doctors have found nothing to wrong so far. I have had regular cycles all my life, albeit they were on the lighter side (but still OK). I have thyroid problems, but it is under control. I have fibroids, but too small to have any effect. Never took pills, except for a month before my wedding (4.5 years ago) to make sure I did not have periods during my wedding. People on pills have oops pregnancy all the time. People in lots of stress have unplanned pregnancy all the time, and also without knowing the right time to action. So I think I have the right to say 'why me'?

Other side of the coin

Although I complain about IF all the time, I also realise I am lucky that I am in a country where the health system supports me through the various tests I need to perform, and also supports me for the IVF that we have decided to go forward with. I am lucky that I have $$s (just enough) saved off to afford the out-of-pocket costs at a high costing clinic for a few rounds of IVF if need be. I am lucky that I have access to a much cheaper clinic which gives excellent service. I am lucky that I have the most supporting husband ever. I may be jobless and have no bun in my oven, but I still count my blessing everyday for other things. And THAT I think is the difference between me and my brother - counting blessings and staying positive. 

Well, I am not always positive of course. I howl every night that I am greeted by my AF (although I do hopeful POAS anyway, and its the POAS that makes a long sigh escape from me, and tears later that night in front of DH). My heart sinks every time I hear someone is pregnant. Hell, I even cried out loud at a park (deserted, but still) the day one of my close friend announced her pregnancy.  But at other times, I do count my blessings more than feel sorry for myself.