Out Of The Closet

My boss just passed by my office, popped his head in, and asked if I was "feeling strong". Sometimes he can be so vague and hard to read, but I think he may have been asking if I was doing well emotionally, handling the infertility stuff OK. See, I finally broke down and told him last week.

I've spent a lot of time writing about how open I should be with people and much more time thinking about it. Over the past several weeks, the positive aspects of keeping silent began to be overshadowed by the complications. First there were the awkward conversations. Then there was me being less reliable than my usual-worker-bee-self. Finally, with the advent of injectable medications, was the need to change around my work schedule to accommodate the vastly increased medical appointments.

My concerns were many. I didn't want people to look at be different or pitty me. I didn't want to seem broken or damaged or somehow less capable as a psychologist because I'm going through a personal issue. I am not invincible, despite how much I try to convince myself of this. I didn't want awkward conversations and inappropriate questions. I surely didn't want advice. Once you get past all this fortune telling, the pragmatic issue of "how" and "when" were also concerns. This isn't usually something that just comes up in conversation. When people ask how I'm doing, my initial response is the obligatory "good, and you?" rather than seizing that moment to explain how I really am. I still remember in my Russian class in high school, the teacher told us that in Russia, when people ask how you are, they are not just doing it as a form of greeting but are truly interested in the response. But we're not in Russia.

First I told two co-workers. It happened during a day that I was trying to figure out how to rearrange my patients to fit in an appointment of my own. They asked how I was doing, really asked, and I told them I was exasperated. Then I told them why. I talked about it in a matter-of-fact, scheduling issue, sort of way. They asked about which doctor I was seeing and this lead to insurance coverage. Then they both said they hoped for the best and we changed the subject. Very nonchalant.

Then I told a different co-worker and one of my mentors at work. This happened on the day of a very stressful patient issue. I was emotional anyways because of the medicine and then this catalyst resulted in a complete emotional breakdown, the kind that hurts your chest and makes it hard to breathe. My co-worker "caught" me in the middle of this and I explained that my emotions were probably heightened because of the medicine but also that something very upsetting was happening. She gave me a lot of guidance and support on the work situation and then she asked about the medicine. Her first response was, "But you're so young!" to which I replied, "Yeah, but my body still doesn't work." After that, she asked about what medications I was on and who I was seeing for care and if I was happy with him*. She was pretty knowledgeable about different medications and the process overall, which was nice. I think this conversation ended by returning to talk about the patient issue again.

So that leads up to the boss. Personally, I love him as a boss but it's sometimes difficult to imagine him as a fellow psychologist. He's very abrupt and goal-oriented and not-warm-and-fuzzy. The first two years I worked here I was downright terrified of him, but less so now. We just don't have many heart-to-hearts. I knew that I would have to have some type of "excuse" to bring it up, and needing to change around my schedule provided just that. Now the silly thing is that I've changed my schedule around for other reasons on numerous occasions and have never gotten his permission. He's basically said not to waste his time with these types of things as long as I continue to have the same level of productivity. But this was the best excuse I could come up with so it took it. He called me into his office to give me support for the patient issue that he heard about from my other colleagues and I told him there was something else I wanted to talk to him about. I fumbled with my words. It was awkward. In the end I said something to the effect that due to increasing infertility treatments and appointments I will need to change around my schedule and maybe cancel an occasionally patient, but I will try to have make a minimal impact on work and patient care.

He responded, "No worries. Take care of yourself. That's the first priority. If you're not healthy then you're no good to the patients anyway."

On the one hand, this was his way of being supportive. I don't have to worry about infertility impacting my job anymore. Despite this, I left his office wondering if he actually heard the word infertility or if he thought I was getting treatment for some other, life-threatening disease. It was definitely an odd response in my opinion, but probably what I should have expected from him. At least now it's over. I'm outed and it feels good. At this point, there is no one else that I feel a burning need to open up to, no one that I feel like I'm hiding anything from. I haven't shouted it from the rooftops (or more realistically, FaceBook) but that's not my thing. Then again, I feel more confident that the next time someone genuinely asks how I am, how life is going, that I will be able to answer honestly.

Coming Out of Your Closet: Ash Beckman at TEDxBoulder

*I think this is a common question because I work at a hospital so everyone assumes they know everyone. 

Fertility Status Updates

Apparently 'tis the season to announce your pregnancy...

1. An old friend from graduate school and sister-in-law to my also infertile friend, we'll call her E. This one is much harder for E of course, because the friend/SIL already has a 18 month old and tried for a month or two. In fairness to friend/SIL, she does have PCOS and did take a little longer with the first one, requiring a few rounds of Clomid, so anticipated that the second might be as arduous.

2. My friend from graduate school, who happens to be 42, got pregnant within a few months of moving to the same state as her boyfriend.

3. An old colleague, aged 35, who got married 14 months ago.

4. C's high-school friend/brother-in-law to his sister, due in April, less than 20 months after their first child was born, which was less than a year after they got married. I remember feeling mildly irritated with their first pregnancy and now here comes number two.

All within the past two weeks. This doesn't the count the peripheral FaceBook announcements of people I hardly know or care about. Happy Holidays to you!

I'm not at all bitter.

My updates are much less exciting. So far I've have three ultrasounds, and my Follistim has been upped from 50iu to 75iu to 150iu. Still no eggs bigger than 10mm. On the bright side, my lining was described as "beautiful": 7mm and Trilaminar. I go back tomorrow morning for another monitoring appointment and then will likely need to pick up a third vial of the medication.

As suspected, the fantastic price of the first vial ($0!) was just a fluke. When I went to pick up the refill, I was charged $65, which is still fantastic that my insurance was willing cover a majority of it, but I have a feeling this will begin adding up quickly. I'm trying to stay grateful that my insurance is covering as much as it is (at least until the end of the year) and that I got a bonus round of medications free.

Getting the shots has gotten a little easier as we've developed a routine. I've figured out that it is better if C is talking to me, preferably telling me a good story about his day, and doesn't announce when he's about to insert the needle. So far, the major side effects have been a little hard to determine. I am definitely getting more migraines, which really sucks, but I also got these with the Femera. I did have some IBS-type symptoms over the weekend, which is something I haven't had is a very long time. I've also felt bloated and constipated. These last two, though, I'm not ready to fully blame on the medication considering I've also had two full Thanksgiving dinners/desserts and leftovers around the time I was beginning the medication. As I've gotten back to eating healthier, the case for the medication side effects is definitely growing stronger.

Thankful for Family

We had two Thanksgivings this year: one with my family on Thursday and then one with C's family on Saturday. Whenever you have over 18 people in a house, for multiple hours, all trying to cook and eat, and with a lot of pre-determined expectations about what the holidays should entail; there is bound to be some emotional drama. To be honest, I expected more drama from my family's side but that's not how it went down.

On Thursday, everyone came over to my parents' house. My one sister boycotted because she's still in her teenage rebellious phase, despite the fact that she is 23, but we knew about this ahead of time. She called later and we had a nice talk. We still had my other sister and her husband, uncles, cousins, and some family friends. "The more the merrier" is definitely a value my family holds dear around the holidays or any other celebration. The sister who came is the one whom I'm not really talking with. We were pleasant with each other, but definitely more distant than we would have been if not for the incident. At one point, we talked for about twenty minutes about the stress happening in her life and then she eventually changed the subject to a TV show without asking about how things were going with me. This was expected. She was very dramatic throughout the evening about how rough her life is going. This was also expected. 

Otherwise, the evening was nice and relaxing. I have no nieces or nephews from this side of the family, my cousins are all single, and most of the conversation focused on my uncle getting remarried rather than family building in the child-sense. There was no pressure and no awkwardness. Marv (our dog) probably enjoyed himself the most and had to sleep most of the next day to recover from the excitement. 

Saturday was different. All three of C's sisters were there, with husbands and a total of 9 nieces and nephews in tow, plus two aunts and his parents. It was also a very full house but with a much different tone. C's dad is in the middle of testing for some medical issues he's been having, and there is talk of cancer. I'm sure this made all the emotions run higher and know that his mom was definitely different than normal and had cried earlier in the day. His oldest sister was also in rare form and, at one point, threatened to leave and drive the 3 hours back to her home after getting in a dumb argument with C. Later in the evening, she gave us all the silent treatment because of something else that C had said. Personally, I think he was sort of pushing her buttons but her reaction was completely disproportionate. The other sisters were taking bets about why she was more difficult and emotional than normal, and pregnancy was top of the list. This made my heart skip a beat. I also couldn't help but get a lump in my throat when (emotional) sister told us of her plans for the parents for Christmas: a family tree with the parents in the trunk, the four children in each of the branches with their spouses, and then all the grandkids as leaves with thumb-prints. I wondered if our branch would really look as sad and barren as it did my imagination and if there would be space for us to add our thumbs prints later or if this was her idea of the family being complete. 

It wasn't all bad. In fact, I laughed and probably had more fun overall. I am very close with his one sister but she lives 4 hours away so we don't see each other as much as we'd like. We had some great talks, she and her husband were super supportive of our difficulties and said all the right things, and we did a lot of bonding via making fun of the other sister (discreetly of course). 

This is family. When we have children, I want it to be like this. I want my children to have the same family values that C and I both grew up with. In good and in bad, despite the drama, your family is there. They love each other. There will be fights and there will be different personalities and opinions. There will also be laughter and support and a common bond that no one else could understand. For this, I am thankful.