When I was undergoing fertility treatments and professionals would talk about the importance of self-care and positive thinking, I always felt a certain level of guilt.
As a freelance writer, I’ve even composed articles on how to care for yourself during infertility, yet I wasn’t able to follow my own advice. I was angry, bitter, and jealous and I didn’t like the person I had become.
But I also didn’t see any way out of the hole I had dug for myself.
The first three years of trying to conceive were kept between my husband and me. We were both in school, trying to buy a house, and working full time, so we didn’t tell anyone we were having trouble getting pregnant. It wasn’t until we officially started at a fertility clinic that things got more serious and the stress started to slowly pile on. I used to work out consistently, and thought running was keeping me in pretty good shape, but all that flew out the window when the fertility injections and monitoring appointments started.
My doctor put me on strict exercise restrictions while we were trying to grow follicles within my ovaries. I was told walking was the safest for me and would probably feel the most comfortable. And as my abdomen started bloating, causing numerous strangers to question if I was indeed pregnant or not, I realized I needed to take a bit of a lazy approach when it came to my physical health.
The cycle failed, like the numerous ones before. And so did the next one. And the next. Approaching the planning stages for in vitro fertilization was daunting. Some nights it was easier to order a pizza or take-out than make a balanced meal. A stress-eater by nature, chips and dip became an evening ritual as I fervently blogged about the doctor’s appointment I had that day. My body wasn’t responding as well as he would have hoped and I was stressed that the entire thing would be cancelled.
Eating salty snacks and lounging on the couch after work soon became normal. The thought of IVF, injections, appointment calendars, and financing the whole thing consumed me. Every time my husband and I would have sex, I’d wonder if maybe this time we’d get pregnant on our own and wouldn’t have to go forward with more treatments. When we were told to stop having sex before our egg retrieval, I ate more chips to accommodate the stress of losing yet another stress-reliever in my life.
It seemed like an endless vicious cycle.
Read the rest of this article over at SavvyMom.
The post I Knew Self Care Was Important During Fertility Treatments, But I Just Couldn’t Do It appeared first on Risa Kerslake Writes.
