This was the beginning of a conversation with my encouraging husband when I declared to him that I wanted to write about our infertility journey. We both agreed, ‘Go for it!’…but our reservations were shared. He laughed when I asked this question of him because truly, how, HOW, can one talk about suppositories without using the word ‘suppository’? It was part of a larger discussion surrounding privacy, candidness, vulnerability, self-protection, infertility stigmas, women’s rights, rights of an unborn child, and was it possible for my writing to portray honesty and vulnerability without saying it exactly like it is. Which is to say, there are suppositories involved sometimes, folks. There just are. And that’s really just the beginning of it. I think once you’ve had so many different people involved in your reproductive goals (and reproductive body parts), the stigma lessens for those involved and the whole process becomes very scientific as opposed to elusive and private. At least that’s how it feels to me. I do intend to keep some things private and I plan to mindfully share my experiences. Maybe I’ll post something and delete it the next day. I’m not sure. I know that I am a person who has to write and I have to feel and I have to share. Because it’s the only way I feel authentically me. Finding the balance between giving away my entire heart and keeping some of its secrets just for me, has always been my challenge, as well as my strength.
Back to suppositories. 🙂 You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?
The thing is, I’ve had a child before. Very little surprises me anymore about our bodies because I expect things to be messy and unpredictable at times. Suppositories surprised me though. I’m almost 5 weeks removed from our last IUI and I can honestly say that my favorite silver lining about not being pregnant that month was that I could stop the nasty suppositories. My least favorite part? The SuperWoman-like routine I pulled off each morning as I was inserting these into my lady parts while managing a toddler. You see, those pills that go way up inside of you aren’t so bad going in…if they’re whole. Sometimes. Sometimes those suckers would come out of their package in pieces…or I would drop one and then I’d have two halves to figure out how to ‘insert’…while trying to distract my daughter from watching this process. She was 3 at the time and VERY interested in all things bathroom, so I rarely have privacy when doing my work in the bathroom. However, I was determined through the IUI process to hide this sweet little routine of mine. It was just going to be me and the suppositories. And so I would find ways to distract her and send her on ‘quests’ to give me the space to pick those ridiculous little pieces up and shove them where the sun don’t shine. I was quite successful. ‘Oops, mommy needs you to go count how many stuffed animals are on your bed and don’t come back until everrrrry one of those guys are counted (as I watch the pill drop and split in half on the floor and curse to myself under my breath because I KNOW what that’s going to feel like going in…)!’ When I could get this part of my protocol completed and know my daughter didn’t witness it, I walked out of the bathroom with my head high and waited for the music to begin and my gold medal to be draped around my neck. Laughing about this story later with my husband was and is my gold medal.
I think it’s important to be real about the challenges of infertility. This was a REAL challenge for me. There have been many others and I will be introduced to all new obstacles with IVF, I’m sure. Hopefully, I can continue to be mindfully candid and you’ll stay here with me.
Turns out, I had to use the word. And in case you don’t know, those suppositories contain a beautiful hormone called Progesterone and they’re fully designed to support a healthy pregnancy. Those wonderful, slippery, awful, little devils…they help create life.