Friday, August 15, 2014


This is a post I wrote after surgery a week ago that turned into a rant so I erased half of it but I can't make this shit up so here's some of what happened and a little friend named guilt. 

There I laid.

About to turn 34. 

Been at this game nightmare for almost eight years.  Now 100% infertile. Pissing my pants.



Thankfully I wasn't pissing myself.  When I was high in recovery and the nurse guy sitting on the stool next to me was reading me my do's and do nots that I never follow in the first place(am I the only one?) I thought, "Am I pissing the bed right now?"

......inside voice, "Holy shit! I am pissing myself and there is nothing I can do about it. 

Yep its coming out and no one even knows it.

Oh my god. Did they slice a pee line? They totally jacked up my pisser.....

I lifted the hospital sheet to admire such class when all I saw was a half assed murder scene. Damn it. This shit is getting old.  Could you imagine if you shit yourself too??  I consider blood a blessing now thinking about the people that actually shit themselves in hospitals uncontrollably and thank god I am not one of them. Knock on wood....that trick doesn't work. 

This is a week later insert and karma came a knocking. 

Today I shit my pants a little after being hospitalized, having a million tests done and finally being prescribed 6000 antibiotics and pain pills from a to be determined virus. I'm on day 5 and I'm starving if you want to feel bad. I wouldn't. I'm still alive. Apparently my husband and friend didn't as they texted me pictures from the basement of them enjoying stuffed crust pizza after I sobbed over wanting it while I laid in the hospital bed high on morphine. Rather hilarious. Here is said pizza. 

And this is why I don't feel sorry for myself. I have these guys telling me to suck it up and quit being a vagina. And I love them for it. Even though did I mention I haven't eaten in three days minus some crackers but every 30 minute trip to the bathroom takes care of those. This too shall "pass".

...back to last weeks post

The Nurse/Dr/Army guy/I don't know what his job title is; was going over how much the next 4-6 weeks are going to suck be awesome and then me also pointing and laughing at my husband when Mr. Unidentified told us no sex for 2 weeks.

I don't remember the part about the sex talk but my husband reassured me that even on drugs I am still a smartass. It's so true. 

I interrupted him...

"Good news is I didn't piss myself," I looked up and said, "I'm bleeding."

I like to keep things real but mostly funny and awkward. Sorry not sorry?

So the nurse guy handed me a twin sized mattress pad and exited the curtain area as he called for a female nurse.  I don't know if it was because he didn't want to see my bloody vagina or if he didn't want to see my bloody vagina. Either way I laid there for a bit and started half assed crying.  Just the type of crying where the tears are streaming slowly that you can wipe them away quickly not the Kim K. ugly cry.

It had sank in completely. There was no turning back now. The weight of IVF having to be successful in order to have biological children and it's whopping 40% success rate forever more was here and it was streaming down my face and evidently between my legs. 

Infertility drowns me with the weight of guilt.  I see infertility stories of other couples that say MFI or male factor infertility and I wish for a moment I could use that line and lift the guilt off my back.  My husband isn't broken as you already know with his "above average" counts.  I think about what it would be like to be perfectly fertile and it be him with broken sperm.  All of them drinking rum and cokes swimming backwards and shit.  When you have no sperm or low sperm its pretty cut and "dry".  I do daydream about not being broken from time to time and not having all the guilt riding piggy back.  It feels in that moment for me very uplifting to be honest. 

Now never in this century or the next would I ever wish that on my husband. I'd rather be the broken one.  But something I have never talked about on my blog specifically with my infertility since it is 1000% my fault. Is guilt. 

And I know people not in my shoes will say..."well blah blah blah...infertility is infertility Rachel." 
Horse shit.  It is different for every person and every couple.  Some stories make me feel less guilty and sad for others.  Not many anymore but there are a few.  And most of the time...I'm like ehhhh so when did you meet? And you're how old? And IVF is covered. Must be awesome. 

The guilt never changes. It will always be my fault. It never lessens or is passed to anyone else. However unfaulting and out of my control it is. No matter how much my husband loves me in sickness and in health.  It is there.  Wrapping it's heavy suffocating arms around me. 

I can't wait for that moment when I am looking at our tiny little bab(ies) and to know how much all of this has been worth it. I can be free from it's arms. I can say things like, remember that time when I was childless and bitter. I can't wait to hashtag #teamnosleep or #preggoproblems. (Insert sarcastic resting bitch face)

One day our kids are going to ask for an iPhone 20 and we will say back in my day we played outside and built forts and then he/she(or both) will storm off slamming their door shouting how much they hate us and how much we don't love them. Then I'll walk my mean uncool mommy happy ass upstairs and slip the bank statements for their IVF bills under their door. Boom. Hate on that.  

I can't wait to not feel guilty avoiding baby showers or deactivating my Facebook once a month. 

No more draining me of my empathy for others type of guilt. 

No more driving hours to see a specialist and have him look at my follicles through a vaginal ultrasound guilt. 

To not feeling guilty for telling friends and family we can't visit or vacation because IVF and affording said IVF babies is our vacation. 

No more pokes or pills of hormones that make us bat shit cray for our husbands to live with. 

The worry of will our future children ever get to know our parents and grandparents. 

Guilt. Simple and wholesome guilt. 

You nasty little thing. I can't wait to get rid of you. 



  1. Thank you. You took the words right out of mouth!

  2. I'm so glad i found this blog, thank you for your honesty and telling it how it is