By: Rosy Barren
Today my wife began taking her shots for our IVF round. She screeched when she stuck the needle in her belly and I knew exactly how she felt. I stood by with a band-aid and encouraging words just as she had done for me. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that there was a moment of satisfaction in having her find out how truly painful and stressful it all is. She now understands what it’s like to negotiate doctor’s appointments and delicately balance work and life with the diligence of having what I like to call the second job- IVF.
It is right, the time is right, we feel it in our bones, but it doesn’t stop the fights that come frequently from the added stresses of pursuing pregnancy. I fear I am robbing her of the independence to make decisions about this grueling process. I tend to tell her she should hold the needle this way or tap the syringe that way. I tried to introduce her to the ritual I had created as an attempt to make the 3-4 shots a day a little more relaxing, put in a CD, make some tea…she interrupted… “I’m doing my own thing!”
I can’t help it, this has been my life for months and I don’t want anything to go wrong this time.
[photo credit: Flickr member Stuseeger]