I’m alive! It’s been just over 2 weeks since my knee reconstruction and I’ve pretty much been fully focused on ‘pre-hab’ in the lead up to surgery, and now rehab. My knee injury and surgery have had me thinking a lot about pain.
I have always prided myself on the thought that I have a high physical pain threshold. I guess at the end of the day I don’t know whether I actually do or not, but I’ve dealt with my fair share of sports injuries and ongoing pain.
I feel like going through IVF in one way has strengthened my pain threshold, but in another weakened it. I haven’t been keeping track but I’d say in the last 18 months since starting tests and then treatment I’ve probably had around two dozen internal ultrasounds, close to three dozen blood tests, over 100 injections and 6 or 7 not so pleasant procedures (plus now my knee reconstruction!).
A few years ago I finally found out my blood type: -A. With J having a blood type of B+ it means I have the risk of Rh incompatibility during pregnancy if we had a baby with a positive blood type. It’s generally not a big risk during a first pregnancy but can increase for later pregnancies and can cause serious health issues for the baby. In order to prevent this, women are often given injections during their first pregnancy. When I was researching all this via Dr Google back then, I remember worrying about how I would handle having injections during a pregnancy. Now I can laugh at that, I’m so used to injecting myself two or even three times a day.
The morning after my knee operation, the surgeon visited me in hospital and told me I’d be going on Clexane for 2 weeks to prevent blood clots. In three different conversations, the surgeon and 2 nurses asked who would be doing the injections and would we be ok to do them ourselves. As soon as we responded with ‘well we’ve done IVF so we’ll be fine’ they all nodded knowingly.
Sometimes I feel invincible, I don’t have to think twice about giving myself an injection, I can breathe through an internal ultrasound as they push on my ovaries and I quite enjoy the snooze you get from sedation during egg retrieval. But then other days the slightest thing hurts – it’s almost as if I’ve got pain-burn out. The needle that hasn’t hurt for the last 10 days suddenly takes me three or four goes to pierce my skin or I can’t decide whether I feel like crying or vomiting during an ultrasound.
I’ve realised the same applies for my emotional pain threshold. I’ve always thought of myself as pretty resilient and the struggles we’ve gone through as a step-family and with IVF have only made me stronger. Yet some days the slightest thing can tip you over the edge – emotional pain burnout. You can deal with ongoing conflict, with not seeing the little boy you’ve come to love for weeks, with feeling like a failure as a woman who can’t conceive, with the financial strain of lawyers and IVF treatment that doesn’t pay off, the pain of loss – failed cycles and chemical pregnancies that don’t stick. Then the day you drop and break a glass or stub your toe or something doesn’t work in the house, you find yourself in tears or raging against an unfair world.
Self-care is oh so important but I’ve learnt that it still can’t prevent you going past the pain threshold to burnout. Dealing with IVF or a high-conflict bio-mum and legal issues, or a knee reconstruction all on their own would be enough, let alone when you’re dealing with them all at the same time. Throw in all the other life happenings – a new job, a potential new business, house issues, setting up a self-managed super fund, washing and cleaning and vet visits, it’s unavoidable that some days it’s all going to seem like too much. I know we’re not special, I know that other people going through IVF are experiencing their own challenges – moving, partners who are FIFO or armed services personnel so not around regularly, stressful jobs, family issues and other health challenges.
To all of you I just want to say: it’s ok. It’s ok to have those days where you fall apart, where you feel as though the world is against you and you have the worst luck ever. Don’t feel guilty and don’t beat yourself up. You are going through enough and you deserve to have your moment. Be kind to yourself, cry things out of your system, scream into a pillow, run until your lungs burn or take it out on a boxing bag – whatever it takes.
You can be strong again another day and you will be, because dealing with what you deal with, means you are strong every single day whether there’s tears in your eyes or not.
I have always prided myself on the thought that I have a high physical pain threshold. I guess at the end of the day I don’t know whether I actually do or not, but I’ve dealt with my fair share of sports injuries and ongoing pain.
I feel like going through IVF in one way has strengthened my pain threshold, but in another weakened it. I haven’t been keeping track but I’d say in the last 18 months since starting tests and then treatment I’ve probably had around two dozen internal ultrasounds, close to three dozen blood tests, over 100 injections and 6 or 7 not so pleasant procedures (plus now my knee reconstruction!).
A few years ago I finally found out my blood type: -A. With J having a blood type of B+ it means I have the risk of Rh incompatibility during pregnancy if we had a baby with a positive blood type. It’s generally not a big risk during a first pregnancy but can increase for later pregnancies and can cause serious health issues for the baby. In order to prevent this, women are often given injections during their first pregnancy. When I was researching all this via Dr Google back then, I remember worrying about how I would handle having injections during a pregnancy. Now I can laugh at that, I’m so used to injecting myself two or even three times a day.
The morning after my knee operation, the surgeon visited me in hospital and told me I’d be going on Clexane for 2 weeks to prevent blood clots. In three different conversations, the surgeon and 2 nurses asked who would be doing the injections and would we be ok to do them ourselves. As soon as we responded with ‘well we’ve done IVF so we’ll be fine’ they all nodded knowingly.
Sometimes I feel invincible, I don’t have to think twice about giving myself an injection, I can breathe through an internal ultrasound as they push on my ovaries and I quite enjoy the snooze you get from sedation during egg retrieval. But then other days the slightest thing hurts – it’s almost as if I’ve got pain-burn out. The needle that hasn’t hurt for the last 10 days suddenly takes me three or four goes to pierce my skin or I can’t decide whether I feel like crying or vomiting during an ultrasound.
I’ve realised the same applies for my emotional pain threshold. I’ve always thought of myself as pretty resilient and the struggles we’ve gone through as a step-family and with IVF have only made me stronger. Yet some days the slightest thing can tip you over the edge – emotional pain burnout. You can deal with ongoing conflict, with not seeing the little boy you’ve come to love for weeks, with feeling like a failure as a woman who can’t conceive, with the financial strain of lawyers and IVF treatment that doesn’t pay off, the pain of loss – failed cycles and chemical pregnancies that don’t stick. Then the day you drop and break a glass or stub your toe or something doesn’t work in the house, you find yourself in tears or raging against an unfair world.
Self-care is oh so important but I’ve learnt that it still can’t prevent you going past the pain threshold to burnout. Dealing with IVF or a high-conflict bio-mum and legal issues, or a knee reconstruction all on their own would be enough, let alone when you’re dealing with them all at the same time. Throw in all the other life happenings – a new job, a potential new business, house issues, setting up a self-managed super fund, washing and cleaning and vet visits, it’s unavoidable that some days it’s all going to seem like too much. I know we’re not special, I know that other people going through IVF are experiencing their own challenges – moving, partners who are FIFO or armed services personnel so not around regularly, stressful jobs, family issues and other health challenges.
To all of you I just want to say: it’s ok. It’s ok to have those days where you fall apart, where you feel as though the world is against you and you have the worst luck ever. Don’t feel guilty and don’t beat yourself up. You are going through enough and you deserve to have your moment. Be kind to yourself, cry things out of your system, scream into a pillow, run until your lungs burn or take it out on a boxing bag – whatever it takes.
You can be strong again another day and you will be, because dealing with what you deal with, means you are strong every single day whether there’s tears in your eyes or not.