I watched an episode of Oprah last night that aired sometime last week. It featured surrogacy and fertility issues. It was weird to watch. I felt both connected and removed. At one point, Martha Stewart's daughter Alexis shared her infertility struggle and she demonstrated her medication routine. Mike and Michael were watching with me and I found myself yelling at the television,"Hey, we do that! Look Mike, that's the shot you give me. And that one's Lupron, I do that one myself." Oprah kept interrupting her (imagine that) so I didn't get to hear what the rest of the meds were on the table in front of her.
Part of me felt relieved. Like see, even famous people can be broken. On the other hand, Alexis comes off very removed and almost cold. She kept reiterating that the shots were not a big deal and didn't hurt. Ummm...they hurt me. Every morning for me is literally a pain in the ass. My naked butt is a pin cushion and my backside is covered with bruises. We're doing shots of progesterone oil now and the needle is the same size we used for the menopur, but the oil hurts. My calendar says tomorrow I start shoving prometrium up my whoo-whoo. I'd bet Alexis doesn't mind that either.
A wife and husband in the audience are about to start their IVF cycle and the woman explained that her husband had just learned how to give her injections. Without missing a beat, Alexis piped in that it's really not necessary for the husband to give them, she could do them herself. I wanted to wrap my arms through the TV and tell the woman, "It's OK to need your husband! We are lucky to have them here to support us. This is about them too and we don't need to feel alone."
All in all, the show was interesting and reminded me that infertility is an umbrella that covers so many circumstances and walks of life. Regardless the situation, we share the same hope...we want to be parents.
On a happier note...We had guests in town this weekend for a family reunion my mother-in-law planned~it was nice to have some distractions. Here are some highlights:
p.s. But really, all I'm thinking about is the baby(ies)