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How to Throw a Pity Party when the IVF Fails

Infertility pity party.jpg

a blog by Jay Pal, February 25, 2011

Yesterday, as I began to get my period, it occurred to me that my recent in vitro fertilization (IVF) might not have worked. I'm not sure what the giveaway was. Maybe it was that Aunt Flo arrived early, gave me the finger, unpacked her bags and asked for a cot to crash on, or perhaps it was realizing that getting your period in the middle of a President's Day White Sale is the universe's way of kicking you in the uterus.

So today is the day after I found out my latest IVF failed, and I’m still not sure how I feel about it. Well, I take that back. I know I feel pissed, hormonal, crampy, disappointed and slightly homicidal (in a good way) but in terms of how I feel about the future — that remains unclear.

With respect to the immediate future however, there will be a full catered pity party this evening at my apartment, and the first thing on the menu will be blocks of cheese. Port wine (which has gotten me through a few bad break-ups), Swiss cheese (which has gotten me through a few dull parties) and a nice sharp cheddar cheese are all in order once you realize that you’re still not pregnant after two years of trying, three artificial inseminations (IUIs) and two IVFs. Kraft should consider putting that on their package: For Infertile Women, the Broken Hearted, and the Otherwise Bloated: CHEESE!

Even though I fully intended to get back on my pre-IVF diet, what’s the point of that right now? As I sit at work wondering why I can’t get pregnant, it occurred to me that last night’s pity party was the only successful thing I've had happen in the last two weeks. I'm still sad, and only chips, onion dip, chocolate ice cream and wearing my blackest cotton pajamas can help me cope.

Therefore, the diet must be once again postponed until tomorrow. You cannot have a pity party with carrot sticks. I will not eat carrots in a box. I will not eat them with a fox. I will not eat them Sam, I am. I WANT CHEESE.

I might even indulge in some fertility no-nos like raw fish, vodka, caffeine and smoking cigarettes. I’ve never actually smoked (except for the time I set myself on fire while trying to cook pasta) but why should I let that stop me?

If I were to make invitations and invite all of you lovely people, I’d be sure to write all the invite details on a nice white Kleenex. Good bags (you’ve GOT to have goody bags) would consist of left over progesterone, tampons and ovulation prediction kits. Heck, maybe I’d even throw in some condoms since lord knows I’m never ever going to need them again.

If there’s a point to a pity party, it’s to allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling, to process recent events and do whatever you need to do to get you through the next couple of hours. That’s exactly what I’m going to do tonight.

Yes, I still plan to get back on the annoying, endless dieting horse tomorrow, and yes, I will even continue trying to conceive despite how badly it’s gone thus far, but for now, it’s my pity party and I’ll eat cheese if I want to.

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