Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Just Shoot Me

Monday, 9-21-09 (Day 6)

Dexamethasone (.75mg, oral pill): I think it's time to break out the Spanx.

Lupron (5units, subQ injection): My dose was officially cut in half today, dropped down to a mere 5 units. I don't feel as sleepy as I did during the last cycle, but my head has been aching since this morning and I refuse to put anything-even Tylenol-into my body unless I absolutely have to because I am that stubborn and determined to stay chemical free.

It's really too bad that my husband doesn't have the same mindset.

Ironically, as I ran outback to give him the vitamins he forgot to take this morning that are supposed to improve his sperm, I was shocked to find him lighting up a cigarette that was killing his sperm.

We are right smack in the middle of the IVF process, presumably necessary due to male factor issues, and my husband was found guilty of voluntarily harming his precious and necessary contribution by way of a nasty, disgusting, sperm murdering cancer stick.

I don't remember what I said to him; the situation is a bit of a blur caught up in smoke by my white hot anger and that ridiculous cigarette, but I can guarantee it wasn't very nice and he looked kind of scared.

I'm pretty sure I put the fear of God-or me-into him.

In his defense, my husband is not a "smoker", and I'm by no means concerned that he's been smoking behind my back for the last few months. I have the nose of a hound dog, and his knowledge of this sixth sense of mine keeps him in check for the most part. But back in his carefree younger days before me, he did carry on the male family tradition of casually smoking a few times a year because it just wasn't a big deal.

But that changed when he met me and my freakishly sensitive nose, and since then I've only caught him serving his nicotine fix a handful of times during our three years of wedded bliss, and usually only in the wake of a very stressful event for him. But today, disregarding our healthy living style and compromising the fertilization results of our possible pumpkin patch was just not acceptable, stress or no stress.

I'm going to need a large batch of God's grace to deal with this in a decent fashion that does not involve not speaking to my husband from now until the day I need his sperm extracted in order to make our children.

And possibly a burrito from Taco Bell.

Tuesday 9-22-09 (Day 7)

Dexamethasone (.75mg, oral pill): *Sigh*

Lupron (5units, subQ injection): I'm pretty much over yesterdays smoking extravaganza. The reality is that my husband is a good man. He puts up with so much from me and that's enough to drive anyone to nicotine I suppose. And after yesterday's ranting post, He immediately and sincerely apologized, showing immense apathy and regret for his actions, along with a what may have been a possible fear for his life.

I'll take it.

He may not be perfect, but he's perfect for me. Besides, everyone messes up, and I'm pretty sure that Taco Bell is just as toxic to my body as that puff of smokey goodness was to his anyway.

Wednesday, 9-23-09 (Day 8)

Dexamethasone (.75mg, oral pill): I broke down and stepped on the scale today, pleasantly surprised to find that I'm not doing too bad.

And then I remembered it's only been a week.

Lupron (5units, subQ injection): I wonder what it is about Wednesdays that brings me bruises. Just as my battle wound from that very first shot last week started to fade from black and blue to green and yellow, I've gained a new purple and gray one.

It's OK though, they're kind of pretty.

"We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly."
-Sam Keen

5 comments:

WantWait&Pray said...

Without having to take the daily pills, shots...it's such a different experience for our DH's. It's like they know and understand what's going on...but they aren't living, breathing, obsessing about it the way we do. It's our body and we're reminded of that constantly through meds, injections and what we do/don't eat or drink.
I'm glad you guys made up quickly...it's best to work as a team through everything.
You're doing so great honey....but hide the scale. Your body is going to do what it will...and my prayer is that at the end of this grueling process- there will be a baby OR babies inside of you in which the scale will just go up. So..no use worrying about it. Just eat healthy for your body and then when we've both had our babies, we start on our postpartum diet and exercise regimen together!

Nicole said...

I LOVE your humor and positivity! I would have done the same thing with DH. That's awesome that he's a big enough man to regret, apologize, and change. You've got a keeper :)
Yeah, definitely put away the scale. During my first fresh cycle I remember whining to my husband about my weight gain (and need for maternity clothes due to my huge ovaries). He was frank: "You're trying to get pregnant. You're hoping that you gain 25-40 pouds over the next nine months. Stop whining." It wasn't mean- it was his way of removing the stress from my mind (and I think he was sick of hearing about it). So I stopped stressing!

Kelli said...

Oh, men. It surprises me how little my dh actually knows about the details of our IF journey and how much thought, time, and energy I put into doing everything I can to make sure we have our best shot. He just shows up for the necessary sample and hugs me when I'm blue...LOL! But we love them anyway and can't live without them!
Oh, and I'm so glad your bruises are purdy :)

Brittney said...

Oh, the bruising. Isn't it lovely? My bruises had just started to heal also, and then I started the Heparin and Progesterone and now they're even worse! LOL. It'll be so worth it though once we're holding those precious babies in our arms - the physical pains, the weight gain, the up-and-down emotions...all of it: So. Truly. Worth it. Keep that beautiful, positive attitude of yours - you inspire me! You'll continue to be in my prayers. And thanks SO much for also praying for me!

Brittney said...

Oh and ((BIG HUGS)) to you too:)