I've got to just write something or this blog is going to die a slow death, at least for the next three months while nothing is happening fertility-wise. So I'm just going to write and see what happens.
I'm carrying in my briefcase a packet of The Pill. This is odd. The last time I took the pill I was 25. I was originally prescribed it for painful periods, which HAHAHAH, of course were almost certainly due to endo. But I guess it was a good treatment option, even if they didn't know what they were treating. I thought this morning that I'd be about to pop the first pill today but it seems not. For the first time in about six months I'm expecting a period where there is no hope that I am pregnant and it's strangely liberating. I'm not nervously checking every time I wipe, I just know that sometime in the next few days I will start to bleed. Although heaven knows I bled enough after the lap that perhaps there's nothing left. Oh well, I will worry about that if no bleeding has started by Thursday.
This has left me pondering what's worse: Male Factor or tubal infertility where there is no hope every month, and you just have to get through the lack of hope until your next medical intervention, or something like endo or PCOS or unexplained infertility where there's always that little hope every month. By the way, I'm aware that my wonderings on this are pretty specious, but as usual, it's my blog and I'll be specious if I want to be.
I think I would rather have some hope every month than none. Yes, it is strangely liberating to have no hope, but it has also sent me into something of a tailspin of thinking this will never happen for us. Equally, given H's sexual issues, it means that we just haven't had sex as no matter how much I hint and cuddle and kiss, he just isn't really ready to take the risk that his parts will let him down, so he just doesn't want to try. When we had a chance, together we would find a way each month to get him started. So a period of three months with no nookie stretches ahead of me, much as I imagine the steppe stretches into the distance to a Siberian exile (although I know there aren't any of these any more, I imagine that the Steppe did stretch flatly in all directions when there were exiles, and that indeed it still stretches, if somewhat less hopelessly, to those who live there now). Of course, if I take Zoladex and if it has the effect you might expect, I guess my libido might tank, too, so perhaps then I won't mind if there is no nookie for three months. But it's not exactly an exciting idea.
The no hope option means less worry every month, less up and down, certainly. It means my exercise regime can become less fraught, less open to finding excuses as to why I can't do what I used to do in the gym. But I miss the hope, the two weeks of feeling that little tiny bit more optimistic. Yes, the crashes were always bad, but they were at least preceded by two weeks of greater energy, an ability to look forward with hope, a general optimism about life, that's not so easy to come by when every day is much like the other. And if I go into menopause, then that's exactly what it will be like. No estrogen, no ovulation, I just won't have a cycle. That's a sobering thought.
How then should I balance liberation against the loss of hope? I don't really have a choice. This treatment seems to be our best chance to get pregnant in the end, so it's not a loss of hope, it's more of a suspension. A limbo. I've been making plans to get my ass back to the gym, starting with tomorrow morning from my hotel, continuing Thursday morning before work in the office. Perhaps that's what I can do with the blog - I can share my planned exercise cycle and you can all help me stick to it, rather than sharing details of a menstrual cycle and having your advice shed light on what's going on. So perhaps I'm not living without hope, I'm just walking, slowly, along a seemingly endless plain, but in the distance there is a mountain with forests and flowers, and gradually, very very gradually, I will find it getting larger and closer, and I'll start to be able to pick out the streams as they run down the hillside, and the individual trees, and then, sometime in late May, I'll be right there and ready to start climbing.