I had my transfer this morning, which went fine. Actually, it went better than any previous transfers, because I decided to drink less water, and start drinking later. This plan apparently was foiled, though, because I got lost in the shuffle and had to wait an extra half-hour for my transfer. My bladder was really starting to hurt, and when one of the nurses said she wasn't sure how much longer it would be, I asked if I could just pee a little bit? She said, "of course!," leading me to wonder why I've not tried this before.
Of course, when you desperately have to pee, peeing "a little bit" is both difficult and really uncomfortable. I probably peed about half my bladder out, because I just didn't want to stop. Then when I got back to my comfy chair they were ready for me! I was a little worried that my bladder wouldn't be full enough, but they said it was fine. The procedure still was unpleasant, but not nearly as painful as the last two. And when it was all over and I finally got to pee, I didn't have that residual discomfort. I felt great.
Then we came home and I tried to go back to bed. But J, who stayed up until 3 a.m. watching TV, also wanted to go back to bed. And I just can't nap while he's there. He wasn't even being loud, but I was fussy. Mostly though, I'm back on a crazy internal rant in which I just lie there and think how much I want to shake sense into him. Seriously, for two hours I lay there next to him thinking about all the things I really want to say to him. And almost all of it was about his weight gain.
Let me start this off with an acknowledgment: J is the best guy I've ever known. He's an absolute doll, and a wonderful husband.
So now into what was making me crazy. What set me off? Well, a few things. First, with the news that his sperm have shown ZERO improvement over the past 4 months, even with him going cold turkey on drinking and smoking, part of me is wondering if, hey, maybe being over 300 pounds has something to do with it? And then I remembered that I actually broke down and had a horrible conversation with him in NOVEMBER about this, in which I told him that he had to start living like a grownup rather than a college student (his job makes him live more the college-student type of lifestyle, but he could make some effort to fight that), and that he really needed to join Weight Watchers or something where someone OTHER THAN ME was telling him what to eat. Because his weight just isn't safe anymore, and I worry about his heart and his health. And he agreed to all of this. He even worked out on the treadmill for a couple of weeks. Then nothing. And recently it's even worse--he's telling me every day "oh, I didn't get lunch, but they had pizza in the break room so I had that." AARRGGHH.
But what really set me off is the fact that *I* am a little food-needy right now. My hormones are all fucked up, and I'm having cravings like crazy, and I'm trying to be good but the truth is I deserve to slack off a little. And I know that *I* will lose the weight again if I don't end up preggers. I have in the past and will in the future. (I'm not thin and never will be. But I'm at a reasonably healthy weight.) But if I'm feeling tired and hormonal and I don't want to cook and we get a pizza, he's not only eating half the fucking thing, he also orders a box of mozzerella sticks that he devours. Then this morning, when we went to IHOP for breakfast post-transfer, I deliberately left two of the five strips of bacon they gave me on my plate. Why? Because I don't need to be eating that much bacon! Not healthy. So J sees them and snatches them up like a starving man. What am I supposed to say? I don't want to be a nagging wife. I don't want to berate him. I certainly don't want him to start resenting me. What if he started hating himself? I could never live with that.
See? After two hours of shouting at him in my head I just had to stop trying to nap and just get up and watch TV. Christ, I'm tired of being crazy.
Oh, final numbers: 5 blasts (three inside me right now), 2 pre-blasts that might make it to freeze (probably not, if history means anything), and a few more that are on their way out. We've never had any to freeze before. If we do, I hope it's a decent batch. I'd hate to blow $2K on a freeze and then have to decide whether it's worth another $6K to do an unlikely-to-succeed FET, rather than just cut our losses and join shared risk right away.
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9 comments:
I'm so glad your transfer went well today! And kudos to you for being able to stop peeing halfway through. When I'm in that situation, there's no way I'm stopping!
As for PostSecret, it started out as a way for people to send in anonymous postcards with a personal secret written on them. It's expanded into several books and now there is a postsecret website that updates every Sunday with new postcards. The one I posted on my blog was from this Sunday's posting.
I'm glad transfer went well - and eating for four sounds fantastic!
I hope those three are snuggling in tightly for a long ride.
I know where you're coming from with the husband you want to shake thing. Al was diagnosed with diabetes two years ago and he'll make an effort here or there to be healthier, but he just doesn't seem to take the health implications of eating cookies seriously. I worry about his long term health, but he won't listen to me. It's so frustrating. So yeah, I don't know what you can do, but I understand.
Wanted to echo being pissed at our husbands for their own health issues. Mine doesn't have a weight problem, but he has grown this belly the past two years which I find very unattractive. Add into the equation me having lost 70 pounds (did this from 1999-2003, via weight watchers), and well, I don't have too much sympathy when I see him drinking non-diet beverages, and shoveling that 3rd donut down his throat.
BTW, regarding your comment on my blog about meds and adoption . . . there are ways around that, as well as other things that you think rule you out, but don't need to (like seeing a therapist). If you find yourself at the point in which you'd like to know more (and our story), get in touch with me and I will give you more details.
Husband and I are thinking a domestic adoption for Child # 2, and have decided to go specifically for a black or mixed race child. My in-laws live out of state, so I don't care so much about what they think, just it's effect on my husband. I tell everyone "we'll look like 'Brangelina' by the time this thing is done!"
I am thinking lots of good thoughts for you, hon!!!!!!
Just a quick note to say that I'm thinking of you and keeping you and your three little wee tiny ones in my heart today.
Good news that transfer went smoothly and less painfully.
I had a similar dynamic with my husband for a while. He's big, too, and has been for years. The whole weight topic was so sensitive that it became taboo, too many useless fights, etc. But one fine day, he decided he was tired of being fat and started going to the gym every day, watching his eating (somewhat at least), etc.
I say this because it's basically his call to make, as much as it pains you (and pained me). I completely, totally hear where you're coming from, though. I know that irritation when your man reaches for yet another damn bread stick. Especially when you have to be so mindful of what you can eat, drink, and do...
I'm glad to hear that your transfer went well, and that it wasn't as painful. I'll be thinking about you and the three little ones.
I completely sympathize with what you're going through with your husband. I just convinced mine to start taking a multivitamin. He won't see a urologist just to check that everything is ok... and meanwhile I've been through so much crap. As shinejil said, it seems impossible to convince them to take additional steps unless they want to do it themselves. It's been like trying to move a brick wall.
Keeping you in my thoughts, and glad that your transfer went well!
So glad to hear that all went well with the transfer. Am keeping my fingers crossed for you!
Husbands, eh! I'm having a battle with mine over acupuncture - he refuses to go as he thinks it's a waste of time, while I'm convinced that it may improve his morphology. I think what I find difficult is the fact that I have to put my body through so much, while he won't do one small thing which might improve our chances of having a child. As shinejil says, only they can decide to make that change - but maybe we could round them all up and bang their heads together!
I SO much understand the weight thing. My hubby is hovering quite close to 300lb himself, and they specifically told him that his estrogen was too high. Fat stores estrogen. When he did lose some weight, his count got significantly better. (Like.. doubled. Still crappy, but half as crappy.)
I made the point of going to the gym with him, trying to be as encouraging as I could be.. But he thought an appropriate post-workout meal was pizza.
PIZZA.
NO.
We had a BIG blow out about it which got us nowhere at all.
It's frustrating. Now that I'm pregnant, I've tried to let it go, but I still worry. He eats HORRIBLY.. doesn't exercise at all, doesn't sleep enough. I don't want to be a widow at 40. But he thinks he's fine.
Head in the sand, I tell ya.
Anyway.. Good luck with your embies! Hope they're snuggling in nice and tight!
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