Things I won't miss about fertility treatments-

I've been thinking a lot about all the things I'm not going to miss about fertility treatments. I guess you could say this is me putting a positive spin on ending treatments. Because we will be ending treatments, maybe not right this moment- but sometime next year we are getting off this train. I'm not counting on a miraculous viable pregnancy here, I'm thinking more of quitting treatments to move on to adoption. Is the first option still possible? Sure, almost anything is possible. But I have chosen to focus more on the hopes of adoption at this point, because really it seems more possible to me than a viable pregnancy. Viable pregnancy... ppfft. Those happen to other people.

But either way, our journey will be ending. It's still hard to wrap my head around that sometimes. We won't be going through this three ring circus much longer, we won't have to shell out that hard cash and fight every single day for something that so many get effortlessly. Weird.

So, as I research adoption, and get myself more and more worked up about it (I am getting really really excited about starting adoption... too bad we aren't going to be able to start for another year or two or three... ungh), I'm preparing myself to let go of what we've known for the last few years of our life. Infertility really does become a lifestyle, and I know it will never go away completely, but some things will. And that's what this list is all about!

I will not miss driving an hour to shell out hard earned money to my doctor.

I will not miss driving that distance, paying that money, and still getting bad news.

I won't miss bawling my eyes out on the way home because of said news.

I will not miss having all sorts of weird things shoved up my lady parts- like pills, ultrasound wands, catheters, endoscopic equipment, etc...

On that note, I won't miss having so many people having a front seat to my lady parts. I really can't tell you how many people have seen them, especially after my laproscopy/hysteroscopy. I felt very violated after that one; I know a whole team of nurses, a few doctors, all got a nice panoramic view of me. While I was unconscious. I have photos of my internal reproductive organs... which is kind of cool, but kind of sad. I mean, normal women wouldn't have a clue what they're ovaries look like. I could show you (as a matter of fact, I did haha).

I won't miss all the ultrasounds. I've had more than Mi.chel.le D.ugg.er. For serious. I only wish mine were for such happy results... but no, other women get to have all that for themselves.

I won't miss having to take this pill, then this pill, then that pill, while taking these pills, orally, vaginally, injections sub-cutaneously, intramuscularly, now this person giving me a shot, or giving myself a shot, and another, and another, and another.

I will not miss having scheduled make-outs with the husband. I won't miss it, no matter how romantic it is to turn to the husband and say, "Soooo... are you ready?"

I will not miss scheduling my life around appointments, planning my job based on what's convenient for appointments, missing opportunities because I have to take an injection or a pill, or have intercourse, or an IUI, or so on and so on.

I won't miss hauling all these meds with me- like when I was doing injections and had to shoot up at work, and one time even in the parking lot in front of a Star.Bucks while waiting in line at the dentist's. Or how full my purse it right now, because I never know if I'm going to be home or not when I need to take X,Y, or Z.

I won't miss having to explain what medication I'm on, and why I'm on it.

I won't miss worrying about not getting pregnant.

I won't miss worrying about getting pregnant... and the possibility of yet another miscarriage.

I won't miss feeling like it's never going to happen. With adoption, I'm pretty optimistic that I will be a mother. Trying to conceive? Not so much.

There are a lot of things I won't miss about fertility treatments. This isn't everything, but it's what I've got off the top of my head anyway. It's been a long three and a half years. Two and a half of them have been with fertility treatments. I'm just so done with this crap.

I dread the end, it hurts, but at the same time there's this huge feeling of relief in knowing that there's an end in sight. I feel so torn sometimes, I really did want to experience a viable pregnancy... but I'm left with these bad memories of my three, and I know that even a viable pregnancy wouldn't alleviate those. But it would be nice to know what it's like just the same.

I'm excited about adoption, yes. But I do mourn what I've lost and will be losing. Part of me wants to keep doing treatments. Part of me knows I can't keep doing this- it's too much for me, it's been so long, and I've been through so much, and I know my odds, and it feels masochistic for me to keep going through this. We all have our limits. But for now, I keep doing them. And I look forward to ending them, even though the thought still hurts.

I can't put it into words, what it's like at this junction in my life. I want to keep doing treatments, yes. I still want that chance, that opportunity. And I want to know we did everything we could. But I honestly am not counting on it working. Like, I really have written it off, even as hope creeps in each cycle... it's a hope that I can't convince myself to believe in. I think getting negative test after negative test these last few months is what really made me start feeling like it isn't going to happen at all. It's like, I can't even get pregnant now. And here I was, so worried about another miscarriage.

But at the same time, I want to let it all go. I want to move on. Adoption has given me hope again, and that hope is what is keeping me going. We're making plans towards this end, we're working out goals for the next year; I've even dared to allow myself to start dreaming again. I can see a child's room, I can make plans to have children's things in our house, because it's going to happen. Someday. I think the thing that makes me sad about this though, is knowing how much longer it's going to be. How much longer we're going to have to wait. I try not to focus on that though, and instead focus on the little steps ahead.

It's a really weird place to be in. Not knowing when exactly you're going to be moving forward, or how, or what exactly is going to happen. Doing treatments, while actively working towards an alternate plan.

The end goal is still the same though, and that's what's really keeping me going.