I know all the horror stories about the IVF drugs and what they can do to a gal. I’ve got friends who have been there, done that and there’s no holding back when fellow IVF’ers swap stories. They say women lose all dignity during childbirth but I’m pretty sure I gave away my dignity when I started charting my temps and recording my cervical mucus. The actual injections are pretty straight forward and I guess we can thank technology for this. The epi pen style is not rocket science although the trigger injections are when the real fun and games begin. Emotionally I was doing pretty ok. My husband wasn’t so sure. Earlier this week he came home and I was watching our wedding video. I had the cat in my lap and a box of tissues beside me. He walked in, took one look at me and said “Drugs kicking eh?”
It was until a few days later when I was at my local cafe getting a takeaway (decaf and I only take two sips, sniff it and then throw it away) when I realised I’d hit a new low. It seems that my tolerance levels have dropped somewhat since this whole IVF business started. Looking back on this “event” I’m amazed at my complete lack of being able to keep it together. I’ve always been the one in control, I’m on it at work and I’m no flake. This day changed that.
I was sitting next to a man and we were both waiting for our order. I was feeling a bit tetchy and the man beside me was reading the paper. He was turning the pages and here’s where things get a bit weird. The noise of the paper rustling as he turned the pages was annoying me. I’ve always been pretty good at keeping my inside thoughts inside my own head but NOT TODAY. As he kept reading and kept rustling the pages I turned to him and asked him if he wouldn’t mind turning the pages in a more “softer” manner. I’m fortunate that this man is not someone I see on a regular basis because he looked at me like I was on crack. Of course he didn’t quite understand what I meant and asked if I could repeat myself. So I did. The next minute or so is a bit hazy but I’m pretty sure he huffed and puffed at me, crumpled up his newspaper (in a rather loud fashion I’d have to say) and moved away from me. It was only after I’d got my coffee and was walking back to my office that it dawned on me what in fact had just transpired. For the love of God I was losing it.