Pregnant but still infertile

I haven't been writing much because I have not had a whole lot to say. Mostly, being pregnant is a happy experience, but there's not a lot more to say. I'm done with my betas, my first ultrasound is not for a few more days, and I've had a few days of nausea but nothing serious. Honestly, the most significant part of being pregnant is just remembering that moment when we saw the positive test, and feeling the tears that still come to my eyes.

However, there are some moments that jump into my face and make me remember that hello, I am pregnant. And hello, I am not a normal carefree pregnant lady. Here are a couple of examples:

1. Medications. I am still using progesterone twice a day, and switching my four estrogen patches every three days. I still take my baby aspirin each morning. I am exhausted all the time. I don't know if that's normal first trimester tiredness, or if it's the mega dose of progesterone and estrogen that I am giving myself morning and night. In any case, it ain't cheap. BUT I had a small moment of victory when my insurance actually sent me this:

Yes, this is more expensive than gold.

For those of you who have not spent a fair amount of your life savings on infertility treatment and medications, these four boxes represent only a 30 day supply (and I've been on this stuff for 4.5 weeks already, and will remain on it for 3.5 weeks more). And are you sitting down? This one month supply costs $900. Yes, NINE HUNDRED DOLLARS. Till now, I have been paying for it out of pocket, but after many phone calls to my hated insurance company's pharmacy, they are now covering it with a $60 co-pay. Since pregnancy is covered, they have to. But they certainly dragged their feet, making me shell out several hundred dollars more while I waited. Anyway, it felt like a huge victory when they finally sent this to me. I actually have two refills that I hope I won't need, and I plan to fill those suckers and either keep them for my future self or share them with women in my support group who don't have insurance coverage for fertility either. But overall, the point is, it sucks that this medication costs so much, and that insurance doesn't have to cover infertility. You can have any number of self-caused medical conditions that insurance pays thousands of dollars for, but infertility? Nope. WHY? It makes no sense, and is so deeply unfair and unjust.

2. A good friend of mine (normal friend, not infertility group friend) just found out today that she is pregnant. I am absolutely thrilled for her- she'd been trying for a few months with no luck, and was beginning to worry. But I was shocked that she is just 5 weeks pregnant and wants to go to pregnancy yoga classes, and has already told a ton of neighbors, and is so carefree and gleeful. I mean, I guess that is normal? But coming from an infertility perspective, pregnancy is joyful, but it's NOT a sure thing. I have known too many women with miscarriages and complications to just tell the world and not even consider the first trimester a time for caution. What must it feel like to have such a trusting, carefree attitude towards your body? Not to have to pump it full of chemicals, not have three betas and an ultrasound all before 7 weeks? They don't even want to see her till she hits 10 weeks, assuming that she is all fine and no care is needed. It all sounds so foreign to me. All I can hope is that infertility will make me value my pregnancy and child more than I would ordinarily? Is that even a reasonable thought? Don't most mothers love their children, and can you really rank such a thing? I don't think so, and this is probably a topic for a longer, more thoughtful blog post. But anyway, it's hard to see her unabashed celebrations, and remember that I am still "high risk" and still being monitored closely and still taking tons of medications just to keep myself pregnant.

To sum this up, I'm not saying pregnancy after infertility had been particularly hard or traumatic for me. It's just that I notice these things more and think about them quite often. It's hard to realize how precious a thread an IVF pregnancy hangs on, and though I have no reason to worry, it's hard not to with all the appointments and blood tests and the early ultrasound. I hope I can gradually feel more like a normal pregnant person, and that being pregnant the same time as my friend is a happy experience, and not overwhelming in its contrasts. Someday, if all goes well, I'll have a baby, and that's what really matters, not how hard it was to get him or her here with us.