#Microblog Mondays: Returning to the Scene of the Crime

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Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

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Last week I needed a refill on my prenatal vitamins. Mine are prescribed to me, because that’s just how my fertility clinic rolls. When I decided to pursue IVF they wrote me a prescription for something like 2 years worth of prenatals. It has a higher amount of folic acid, and is split into two doses for better absorption, or something to that effect. It’s actually been to my benefit because since it is a prescription, it is covered by my benefits, and those suckers are expensive normally. Especially for someone like me who has spent 3 years taking them!

I get the prescription filled at a special pharmacy that stocks all matter of fertility meds, aids and a bunch of stuff for once you actually get pregnant as well. So it’s the same pharmacy I went to for all of my injectable drugs. I was there near every other day during the times of my IVF cycle, and subsequent transfer. I saw a lot of the same faces as would be at the clinic first thing in the morning because we would have our scans done and then be sent off to the pharmacy to pick up whatever meds were needed for the next steps. I never spoke to any of the other women, but we were pretty well all there for the same thing.

The last time I had to get more prenatal vitamins I was definitely not showing much, and I was still in the early days (in my mind) of my pregnancy. It felt weird not being there for more needles, swabs and meds to jack up my ovaries, but no one else would know that. This time, I was 6 months (obviously) pregnant. Luckily there was only one other person there at the same time as me but she was getting a prescription for some sort of injectable and they were teaching her how to use it.

I sort of wished I could sink into the floor. I felt bad walking in there with my big pregnant belly. It’s no longer a place for me, for which I am thankful.

*Alright, so it’s not actually Monday anymore but nothing was coming to mind yesterday when I was trying to come up with a post.

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5 thoughts on “#Microblog Mondays: Returning to the Scene of the Crime

  1. It’s hard because there is a part of you that wants to go over and say, “I so get it” and another part of you that knows how you would have felt if someone had gone over and said, “I so get it” when you don’t know where your journey will go.

  2. I get the feeling…I went back to my clinic to say goodbye to a nurse that was leaving and donate some left over meds…I decided to go at a time where they wouldn’t be busy to avoid that same feeling.

  3. Betsygw

    I am an infertility nurse, who herself struggles with infertility and failure. Everyday, I call my amazing patients with their next steps….and hold my breath and pray every time I see their results come on!!! The best part of my day, calling them with a positive test, the worst, calling with a negative! We feel every emotion with our patients, especially myself, as I struggle to get a baby of my own!!! We are here for you, we are your partners, and in this with you!!! Every heartache you feel, guess what, I cry it with you! For every happy outcome, bad or good, I cry, and I rejoice with you!!! Give your fertility nurse a hug!!! I have been a nurse for 14 years, I have worked in icu settings and have seen so much!!! I have felt the most heartache from being a fertility nurse!!! Just hope I can have a baby too!!! I feel your pain, on every level, and I feel your joy! Had an amazing day with 9 positive calls!!! I held my breath as your results appeared on my computer screen, and I said a little prayer. I laughed and cried with 9 of you today, tears of joy and triumph. I cried tears of pain with 3 of you! My heart is full of joy for 9 of you and sad for the three of you who weren’t pregnant….::including myself…once again!!!! But I Love you girls! I’m here for you! This is the best job ever!!!

  4. I had to go to my old infertility pharmacy after the birth of my daughter to have my prescriptions transferred to a more convenient pharmacy. My daughter was only a few months old and the pharmacy was full of hopeful women waiting to get their injectables, meds, etc. no one would make eye contact with me and I felt so bad being there. Little did they know that my infant daughter was adopted. I felt like empathize get with them, but I knew that my story was not the one they wanted to hear about…. I don’t go to that pharmacy anymore. It’s too painful for them, for me… There is solidarity in infertility, but there is also so much isolation.

    Congrats on your growing belly! So exciting!

  5. That’s got to be surreal. Maybe she wasn’t thinking, “argh, pregnant woman there while I’m learning to jab myself!” Maybe she was thinking, “There’s hope right there in that pregnant belly… maybe this will work for me.”

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