She made me never want to consult anybody about it again. So, when I got pregnant six years ago, I thought, “Who needs a lamaze class anyways?”

What I’m about to tell you, my dear first-time mother, is what my mom never did. I got to experience this without any previews to get me ready. Yes, true believers: I’m going to let you in on the glorious and spectacular process of dilation.

Here I present you what I call the Five Stages of Dilation.

Stage 1: DENIAL

Mild discomfort starts to poke you where the sun don’t shine, as if you were having your period. Things are a little sore and tender, but it’s nothing to worry about. You get optimistic and hopeful, and even think your delivery will be pretty, even glorious. You know, like what childbirth might look like if the tampon commercial people were to film it. You consider the thought that it might not even hurt at all. Perhaps that mild discomfort is just your positioning. I’ll just adjust my legs over there. Or run through a meadow, Julie Andrews-style. Yeah, that’s the ticket.

Stage 2. ANGER

“WHATTTAAAF…”

You’re lucky if you even finish the sentence. Contractions spike into a whole new motherfucker of intensity level. You aren’t – can’t be — prepared for this. Like when you eat so much, and so many different types of food, that it’s all going rotten in your intestines. You want to scratch the wall, your breath is shallow and you can’t wait to shit it all out, because a pain a hundred times worse than food poisoning creeps out and around you. It’s a migraine in your gut, all-powerful, all-consuming. One pain to rule them all. Frickin’ ouch, mother fucker.

To aggravate matters, after hours of begging, pleading, swearing and sweating, you’re told you’re only dilated about one centimetre. Nine more to go, sweet cheeks, but hold in there. You’ve never felt more desire to punch someone more than in this moment. Wait, did I say punch? I meant to say rip the beating heart out of the chest of an unsuspecting, innocent human being. You croak out, “Honey, could you come here a minute?”

Stage 3. BARGANING

You start questioning the integrity of the measurements. They’re subjective, even lazy. They’ve gotta be. C’mon! How can two fingers put together know that you are barely one centimetre dilated? You demand a re-count. Those fingers are huge! They’ve gotta be five or six centimetres, at least. Get a damned protractor up there. A tape measure, something. The ripening pain in your abdomen makes you think that a fallopian tube just exploded. “I know I said I didn’t want drugs until the last possible minute. But yeah, I want ‘em. Gimme.”

Hopefully you are in better luck, unlike me. My midwife, she said I should wait until at least four centimetres. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN’T HAVE DRUGS YET?”

Demand a recount.

Stage 4. DEPRESSION

You’re not progressing as your delusional self thought it would happen. The pain keeps increasing, as if someone is reaching inside your abdomen through your vagina, trying to detach your uterus with rusty, jailhouse-sharpened spoons. Repeatedly. Every four minutes.

By now, you feel there’s nothing you can do, other than… wait. Squeezing your eyes might help. Those massages, that breathing pattern, those pressure points, are your only help.

Sigh.

SCREEEEEAAAAAM.

Sigh.

Stage 5. ACCEPTANCE

You realize you’ve managed to make it for close to 12 hours under all that shitting-fallopian-explosion-uterus-extraction pain. You don’t know if your body has given up or gone numb.

You know help will come, you will only need to stay focused until that happens. Because it HAS to happen. It HAS to happen.

Months from now, you’ll hear stories about yourself. Stories that you have a starring role in. Stories that are vaguely familiar, but you don’t. Remember. Doing that.

Like when you release your husband’s ears and order him, on pain of death, to fetch the epidural guy.

Anything else worth sharing about dilation with those first-timers?

Note: I submitted this post to ScaryMommy because let’s face it, this is something scary to be used as contraceptive.

During the second treatment of Letrozole I started to notice some nasty side-effects:

1. Hot flashes. I can now relate (and extend empathy) to those women who suffer of them. It is this nasty hot feeling under your first layer of skin that you wish to exhaust. It didn’t matter where I was, all of a sudden hot flash mode would turn on. For the first time I didn’t need a sweater while attending a meeting in the freezer room (that’s how the women used to call it, only men would be in their short-sleeved shirts).
2. Insomnia. When hot flashes kick in at night they wake someone up I tell ya. If hot flashes are disgusting during the day, at night they feel like hell. I couldn’t go back to sleep after such discomfort. I felt miserable. And my personal (and compact) fan pointing at me wasn’t enough to console them.
3. Tiredness. So, hot flashes kick in at night, then you wake up, throught the night, a lot.  No wonder someone feels tired the next day.

Some people might endure all of this agony in the name of balance, but not me. I was so ready to throw in the towel when the fertility clinic called me to confirm the second round of Letrozole didn’t work. I felt sick. I worked hard not to crumble right there at the office. All I was left with was a bunch of thoughts and feelings with probably the same amount of unknown answers.

As a next step, the fertility doctor recommended to try “FSH injections”. Apparently the treatment is about $800 and all I had to do is apply them myself on the belly. Did I say they are 12? No, thank you.

I left the clinic with another prescription, but this time for an alternative to Letrozole: Clomiphene. There’s no way I voluntarily pay to self-administer pain. At least not yet.

All and all living with infertility has been a sour experience, from waste of time to uncomfortable feelings, but nothing has been more unpleasant that being on the wait-and-see seat during this long process. Let’s see how the alternatives to those injections work out.

Hopeful

It’s been freaking too long and neither I’m pregnant nor my hormonal imbalance issues are better.

During my trip to Mexico in December, I visited a homeopath. He was highly recommended by a friend who suffered of a similar condition like me. It’s funny but when I started experiencing difficulties conceiving another baby she came to my mind. She was told by her gynaecologist she needed surgery in her tubes after her results were back. She got scared and seeked for an alternative option. She found this homeopath doctor through a friend and after a year under the homeopathy medicine she was able to conceive naturally. We now joke a lot considering she has 4 kids since then. Two of them born two years apart, and the other two are twins!!  Clearly there is something in this homeopathy medicine, no? I had to go and see this doctor too.

I came back home with a 4-month worth homeopath medicine supply. Which I intended to continue using along the infertility treatments given by my clinic in Canada.

I called the infertility clinic to follow up on the polyp surgery. And after doctor’s revision I was instructed to continue trying naturally.

I was very optimistic. I was hopeful. Husband and I did our homework and somehow I was already calculating possible due dates. And then my period came a week earlier. I felt blank. I had no initial reaction to this event and what it represented. I even thought maybe perhaps I was pregnant and it was just a sign. I gave it a day, but it only confirmed the unwanted. I had to call the clinic and hear what was next.

The doctor prescribed Letrozole which is supposed to stimulate my ovaries. I asked her my concerns; the chances of multiple babies or defects. She assured me this medicine has very low chances for multiple pregnancies or defects in babies compared to others. And like if this is not scary enough, she then mentioned if this doesn’t work out she would like to suggest moving on to IUI. My heart stopped.

I realize that more than being scared to the unknown world of insemination I am more upset at myself. I feel guilty. I feel powerless. I feel like a failure.

I feel guilty for not trying harder during the first year after returning to work. I feel if I had, probably I would have noticed this problem sooner and worked on it longer while younger?

I feel powerless because there is nothing I can do. I wish I could own an ultrasound device and be hooked to it 24/7 but I don’t know what to look for in what it looks like a picture of a constellation. I wish the Canadian health system allowed for these clinics to monitor more closely, to issue more detailed exams.

I feel like a failure because it’s my organ who is not cooperating. The same organ it was good 4 years ago and at the first try, it’s now unpredictable. I had tried so hard to lead a healthy lifestyle by not eating processed foods and by no doing drugs, that I can’t understand any other factors that can be affecting my ability to succeed on this. I understand age is a factor, but at my early 30’s?

While I’m in the middle of taking Letrozole, for another change to conceive more naturally, I can’t help but wonder if going IUI is even an option for me. I guess at this point I need to cool my head down a bit and take away the negative feelings and pressure from myself. Really hoping the homeopathy treatment comes to the rescue and on time when things don’t look pretty anymore.

I felt like a kid in Disneyland at any dollar store. It was so easy to find anything in snowflakes. I even found a table cloth, white and blue with snowflakes, how awesome was that? While there were huge amounts of christmas decor to build Arendelle, I thought I wouldn’t find any use of it after the big day. So I only bought shiny ribbons, shinny blue and white metallic paper, and other things. If it wasn’t for Christmas decor I would have ended up with a lot of white stuff.

The Food

This time I wanted to be better prepared compared to last year’s party, where I felt rushed into completing all the things in my to-do list. This year I started planning two months in advance, not heavily but at least I was actively searching for things to add to the pre-list.

I really liked the idea of snow flake decorated cookies and for that I had the vision to find the famous Pillsbury instant sugar cookie dough. Because in my head I only needed to buy a snowflake cookie cuter (which again, so easy to find anywhere I walked into) and bake away. But, let me tell you that almost at the end of October there was nowhere to be found any of those instant cookie tubs. I was in disbelief. So I had to make my own dough.

I also made homemade white mac and cheese in cupcake liners. I used this recipe.

Bought a fruit platter, small fruit juice for the kids and water, coke and pizza for the adults.

I debated for a long time the idea of making a simple white cake with coconut flakes. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought I’d end up exactly like the last year where time wasn’t in my favor. Then almost close to be without a cake, my neighbour stopped by the house and dropped off a cake she baked for the occasion. That was a delicious and fluffy miracle, love my neighbours.

The Place

We rented Willingdon Community Center and it was perfect. Spacious, had a kitchen, had a vast quantity of toys for kids under 5 and also the rental cost was moderate. I also liked the details that made an impact like coat hanger (so handy in the winter time where everybody wears bulky) or having little people’s tables and chairs (the cutest).

There was only a tiny hiccup in the place, I felt I was running, literally, from side to side, because the place was huge!  So, I didn’t have time for taking pictures of the decor or the food or any other setting (as you can tell), but husband at least managed to capture a glimpse of the cookies’ left overs.

Thumbs Up! I would rent this place again for sure.

The Entertainment

Last but not least the amazing Crowned Princess Entertainment, which was the highlight of the party (sorry Milla). When I rented the community center I was seriously doubting if the amenities would be enough to keep all the 4 year olds entertained. Last year the rental facility included a bouncy castle and all of Milla’s friends were busy and happy for hours in there. Milla pictured the same bouncy castle this year and I was worried only the toys provided by the community center wouldn’t be sufficient.

Luckily I heard of Claire and her Crowned Princess Entertainment show around the time I was planning the party and thought it could be fun to try something different and see the reaction of the 4 year olds. I’m glad I went that route.

Claire arrived as Queen Elsa, minutes before the start time, she was super professional. Milla couldn’t even wait for Queen Elsa to enter the place and she was already outside shaking hands with her. That was a big sign she was going to love the show!

Then Queen Elsa gathered all the kids and read to them. I couldn’t believe how engaged and knowledgable they all were about details of the story (I should not sub-estimate them). Then they all sang “Let It Go”, and my heart melted.

Tattoos and pictures followed after the story time, and by the time Queen Elsa left the party we all had a huge smile that made us forget the need of a bouncy castle. Having Claire that day was a great choice.

It’s no surprise half of our pictures were around Queen Elsa. Our friends immediately (almost instantly) uploaded pictures of their kids to Facebook and commented how much fun it was for their kids to meet a Princess, as the hostess that was an awesome feeling!

Until this day Milla still says Queen Elsa, that very one from the movie, was in her birthday party. And I feel I was one cool mama…. even if for only a day. Happy Birthday Milla.

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I gave birth to my first and only born 4 years ago. To our luck, Milla was conceived at the first try. Giving how easy it was for me to conceive her, husband and I thought a two year gap would be ideal for our future children. So, we started trying to conceive for child #2 pretty much a month after I returned to work. But the months passed and I was still not pregnant. Instead, friends emerged like popcorn with their glowing news about their pregnancies, and I felt left out.

What do you do when your friends are getting pregnant and you are not? I’ll tell you how: lots of smiles and lots of congratulations notes even though deep deep inside, there was always the question “why not me?” I was happy for my friends, sure. I even fantasized having my friends pregnant at the same time with me sharing once again our time. And this was not the plan; I was supposed to be pregnant too. The only thing left was to breathe deep and not to let it go too much to my head.

Third year

Then Milla turned 3, and other friends came out with their glowing news about their pregnancies. At this point I was fighting hard not to panic too much about infertility. I thought on blaming it all on my fertility app. But strangely I noticed through out the year changes in my skin complexity, in my hair structure, and weight gain and that last one really left me thinking.

So last year, before going on my trip to Mexico, I went to see my family doctor and expressed all the changes in my menstrual cycles, skin, hair and weight. He sent me for blood work and the results came back good. GOOD? How can they be good?!! At the very least I got him to refer me to a fertility clinic where they were able to look in more detail about my menstrual cycle issues. Due to the doctor they assigned me to at the clinic, he made me feel I had a dollar sign on my face so I stopped the visits. While the doctor suggested to get all the possible tests done, he also suggested to start right away all treatments at once without results known yet, this to advance the possibility of pregnancy. This was great but I wasn’t comfortable to be given so much medication without needing it for sure. That and also the fact he was pushing to get some tests done on my own expense because they were not covered by our Canadian health system – again, pushing without knowing if I needed those test yet. This is why I stopped the visits. So, I went to Mexico and decided to be hopeful.

Fourth year

But this year, exactly at a year mark, I returned to the same clinic but asked for a different doctor. Blood tests followed – who knew I would voluntarily get my arm ready for a needle poke that many times – an ultrasound, and a super uncomfortable uterine x-ray, God knows that’s worse than a pap smear.

When I met with the new doctor she told me she saw I had a uterine polyp and also one of my ovaries wasn’t releasing eggs. As she said “something in your brain is not sending the correct signal to your ovaries to release the eggs”. Great, now I have a new mental issue in addition to the existing ones.

I started doing some research regarding uterine polyps and hormone imbalances. And to my surprise mood can be affected by hormonal changes. Looking back it started to make sense. I remember, back in June, I was telling my friend Bruna from Beeswithhoney that I was going through so much, both emotionally and psychologically, and that I needed to step back for a while from the blogging world. I just couldn’t focus on it, I was feeling depressed and overwhelmed. I do feel the changes in mood was to its peek around that time.

Progress

I had my polyp surgery yesterday at the UBC Hospital (the same hospital where I had my gallbladder removed 6months after child delivery) and this time the nurse attention was superb. My recovery has been better than expected, they told me to expect cramps and heavy bleeding, but so far I haven’t needed tylenol or other pain relief type.

My next thing in my power will be to look at the root cause of my hormone imbalances, because I know the fertility clinic is only doing fixes to get me pregnant, but not to cure the root cause of why “my brain” is not sending the correct signal for egg release. Maybe I’ll hit the Chinese acupuncture or seek Naturopath advice, I heard there are some herbal remedies that help restore hormone issues.

For now, my hopes for a second pregnancy continue alive. I’m aware there’s still more time to account, recovery time, treatment and hopefully no complications if egg attachment happens. I never thought I would be living such journey, I gained a new level of respect for couples that go through the stress of infertility.

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