Provera Induced Psychosis

Okay, the title is just a joke, but only a little.

After 40 days came and went with no sign of a period, I called up my doctor to get a prescription for a drug that will induce a period. Its basically a crap ton of progesterone and then all the sudden I stop it and BAM. Aunt flow arrives for her visit. I took it once before when we began the process, but haven't needed it since because we have been doing treatments back to back for the better part of a year.

Before you freak out, No. I am not pregnant. As a matter of fact, my Doctor didn't want me to come in for a cycle check or a pregnancy test. All of us already knew.

Ill be taking this medication for 10 days every other month until further notice. My doctor agreed that we should at least keep up on cycles, even if that means its medically induced and I do not ovulate during this time.

Its kind of sad thinking that we have basically stopped trying to have a baby. I mean, yeah, I am not on birth control any more, but we are well aware that doesn't make a difference for us.

Anyway, the first time I took the drugs, I felt pretty crazy. I remember being happy one moment, then looking at Isaac with huge tears in my eyes saying, "I don't want to do this for the next five years! I cant do this!" Not even two minutes after cracking jokes. I remember feeling feisty, having a hard time sleeping, and having a weird appetite. Psychotic was the only way I could describe how I felt inside. By the time the meds did their magic I felt so much better. I realized then that I wasn't crazy, just hormonal. And maybe a bit stressed.

Here we are. A year later and I am getting involved with useless Facebook drama, working some long shifts on 4 hours of sleep, and I can't finish any of my meals (but I can down a bag of mini m&m's like it was going out of style). Its taken me a few days to realize that its these damn hormones and I am instantly more frustrated. How am I still tied up in hormonal upswings and depression down shifts? What is happening over here?

I feel crazy and I probably look crazy to anyone that doesn't know me or understand my struggle. I suppose this is something I should get use to. After all, it is none of my business when it comes to what others think of me, even in settings where it could intertwine with my professional life. I must move forward and allow the shifts and swings to do their thing. Roll with the punches, I guess.

Today is National Rainbow Baby day. A rainbow baby is a baby born after a pregnancy loss/stillbirth. For weeks I've been trying to navigate the emotions I have been experiencing since our failed embryo transfer. Some would argue that this is absolutely nothing like a miscarriage but I (somewhat hesitantly) admit disagreement.

That embryo was growing. It was real. It was inserted into my womb and if all would have gone well, that baby would be 9 weeks gestation. It could have been a little girl with curly dark hair just like me. It could have been a boy, who would have his Daddy's smile. Our embryo didn't get to reveal any of those things, for reasons I don't get to know, but that doesn't change how I feel about it or what the experience has done to impact my life. I am pro choice all the way, so lets not make this a pro-life argument. Its not about politics and whether or not this was considered life. Instead, I just want a safe place to write publicly, that this was indeed a loss, one worth celebrating and remembering. One worth thinking about and one worth discussing. My husband and I have had to deal with the reality that one of our little babies couldn't come earth side, leaving us with empty arms and sad, sad hearts. Two pink lines on a pregnancy test or a heart beat found during an ultrasound do not take away from what could have been and they wouldn't have changed its value in our eyes.

In honor of the battle I am currently fighting in order to get my babies here and in honor of all the rainbow babies that came to be, I am ending my vulnerable rant and finishing with a picture of our "rainbryo"

If you happen to see me pulling an '07 Brittney, shaving my head with that look on my face, don't be alarmed. It's just the provera and I'll return to my normal self in about 10-12 business days.

Triggered

July was one of the strangest months of my life. It's weird that I'm not on some sort of medication. I'm not getting ready for a fertility cycle to start and I'm not waiting for one to finish. No beta blood draws, no pregnancy test, no shots.

We are months and months away from doing another embryo transfer. At best we pay $2,300 and are back in the game before the end of the year. The more likely scenario is that we spend $4,100 and do the transfer some time next spring. Insurance is still processing our cycles from months ago, so we aren't holding out hope that there will be any coverage left to use. Our insurance had a beautiful, large, lifetime max for fertility coverage and IVF cost just about every cent of it. I'm grateful, believe me, but I'll never stop being heartbroken about the fact it takes upwords of $30,000 just to try to get pregnant. I should be able to do it for free!

Since getting pregnant has been forcefully put on pause, I decided to make something of my Doula work. I figured that a handful of births would get us to our own babies so much sooner, so in the matter of a month I built a website, created a pretty decent network of connections, and spent A LOT of money on two different certifications. I've been studying and putting all my free time into making this legitimate. It's exhausting trying to start and run a small business.

If I'm being honest though, it's even more exhausting that my calling in life is also triggering.

At the beginning of this journey I was 100% capable of separating my personal struggles from my career. However over the course of the year, I've been stripped of my ability to keep it cool on the inside. My heart aches every day because of what I do. I wish jealousy and envy were not normal human emotions, but they are. What frustrates me the most, is I'm so passionate about what I do. I really love studying the physiology of birth and all that goes into it. I love taking care of Mothers and offering physical and emotional support. I truly adore every second of the career path I've chosen, but damn it's hard on me. It won't be easier when I overcome Infertility, the difficulty will just be...different.

I look forward to the day where I am no longer triggered by pregnancy announcements or crying babies. When the physical urge rip my hair out while I scream until my throat bleeds dissipates... When I can do my job without that pit in my stomach as I walk the hospital halls displayed with photographs of infants. When I stop considering it good luck when I feel a baby kick from the inside and when I have my own kids to stress over... I really look forward to that day.

Until then, Isaac and I will absolutely be walking around like sad zombies. If you're wondering if we are okay, the answer is no. If you're wondering what you can do to help, the answer is to stop telling us God will give us a baby when it's "His time." You could stop saying anything of the sort and just love us. We are constantly trying to put out the fire of emotions that burn within us every time we see you and your cute little family. Please do not make it worse by fishing for something to say. Just.... Love us.

Infertility is awful. It's sad, gut wrenching, depressing, and ridiculously expensive. The waiting to try feels like a slow death of all things maternal within me. I see it weigh on Isaac and that kills me even more. I've never fully understood the full sense of the word triggered, but I get it now. It's all over the place and it's finally catching up to us. Our babies are frozen in petri dishes and a 45 minute car ride would take us right to them... And yet we are so far from holding them and kissing their cheeks.

Shoot guys... The Forsgren family could use some love and some reprieve.

Also, $4,000 if you have it.