To say this week was taxing would be a huge understatement.
Let’s back up to late last week. I got my genetic testing results. I’m a carrier for a random-yet-fatal disease. Unless DH is also a carrier we have around a 1% chance of having a kid with the disease. In the United States, there are less than 400 people who have it. The test suggested that DH get a genetic test as well but we may hold off due to how rare the disease is and the expense of the test. Other fun fact: carriers have an increased risk of colon cancer so I have that to look forward to. Friday, I got my blood drawn so I could get my progesterone levels checked. I found out during my appointment that my doctor was on vacation this week and the next appointment wouldn’t be until early July. I was crestfallen that we have to wait even longer to see what the hell was going on. At least I didn’t need wait for my doctor for the genetic test results.
This week has been absolutely exhausting. It’s been extremely busy at work and I’ve been coming home and napping almost every day. It sucks because I have zero energy to work out or even go out. Tuesday DH and I met up with friends and that was a bit of a struggle because I was tired even after a nap. We had a great time but I would up going to bed pretty early. Yesterday we had a dinner to go to but I ended up sleeping for almost 2 hours after work and could barely keep my eyes open for the rest of the night.
I guess I should have realized that the fatigue was a sign that my period was on its way. It started today and initially I was okay with it. However, a friend who I work with stopped by my office today to discuss her own infertility issues. We’ve shared our difficulties with each other before and she had questions about getting a HSG and the saline sonogram. I recounted my terrible experience with the HSG and worse one with the sonogram. It was challenging to talk about it and I started thinking about how last year I was hugely disappointed that I got my period right before Father’s Day. Last year I wanted to surprise my dad with the news that he would be a grandfather again and was devastated when my period came. With Father’s Day in a couple of days, I was kind of hoping that I would be able to do it this year but I’m honestly devastated. It’s been almost 3 years of uncertainty, tests, ineffective medicines, and disappointment. Talking to my friend today, she spoke of another friend who was going through IVF and my friend said she and her husband were considering it. IVF is off the table for us because of the expense, even after insurance. I just wish that my infertility wasn’t at the point that invasive treatments like are on the radar.
A few months ago, one of DH’s relatives came to town. We hadn’t seen him in quite a while so we went out to a bar and tossed back a bunch of drinks, including shots. The next morning, I was feeling okay, until I ate breakfast. That didn’t stay down. I vomited several times, thinking that it must have been the flatbread I ate the night before (it was pretty terrible). I almost went home from work.
Yep, this happened on a Tuesday night.
Fast forward a few months, and the same thing happened, except I realized that it wasn’t bad food. It was the liquor. I’ve hit the point in my life in which I can’t tolerate straight liquor. I couldn’t keep anything down (ironically, not even Pepto Bismol) until mid afternoon. I guess it was for the better since ingesting shots isn’t the greatest idea, especially when trying to be more health conscious. Also coincidentally, DH and I were with family we hadn’t seen in a while.
This weekend was a bit frustrating not only due to getting sick, but because I couldn’t exercise much. My folks were staying at a resort and we used their pitiful gym. Kid you not, every piece of cardio equipment was broken and just 2 weight machines worked. DH and I found a path that we though was .75 miles but was more like .2. I haven’t exercised this week because I’ve been battling borderline-severe acid reflux. The liquor + bad food over the weekend + vomiting kicked it up pretty bad. I haven’t been able to sleep and I haven’t been drinking coffee as to not worsen the reflux. I think I’m finally better after leaving work early yesterday. Such a pain, but now I know to be a lot more cautious.
Friday, I have my next doctor appointment. I’m supposed to get my progesterone levels checked and I think next week I get all my test results back. Fingers crossed we finally get some answers.
I finally got back into the gym this week. I decided on Tuesday that I needed to get back into exercise. It had been at least 3 weeks since I last really worked out due to traveling and work obligations. All day Tuesday, I started talking myself out of going to the gym. I was tired. I had things to do at home. I just didn’t feel like it. But before I could fully talk myself out of going when I got home, I changed out and headed over. I kept the workout on the light side: 4 sets of 10 reps of leg presses at 200 pounds, chest press (same number of sets and reps) at 80 pounds, and I walked for 30 minutes. I know myself well and knew that if I tried to run for the first time in 3 weeks I could a) get tired pretty quickly and lose motivation; and b) get a shin splint and be out of commission for a few weeks. When my workout ended, I realized that I had missed how amazing I felt afterwards.
I went back to the gym yesterday, again immediately after work. And I did something for the first time in a very long time: wore gym shorts to work out. I rarely wear shorts in public. I gain weight first in my thighs and since I was in my teens I had issues with shorts that ride up when I walk. I wore jean shorts last week to run to the store and it felt both great and strange. Yesterday I was suddenly feeling inspired to wear gym shorts to work out instead of my usual capris or pants. While walking to the gym, I felt a bit like a baby learning to walk: a little unsteady, hyperaware of the air hitting my legs. In addition to a 30 minute walk, I did a few kettle bell exercises and 4 sets of 10 reps on the ab crunch machine at 70 pounds. When I walked to get some water after using the ab machine, I checked out my legs in the mirror. I noticed less jiggle and more muscle definition than when I last examined my legs months ago. During my walk, a friend came in the gym and I immediately felt self-conscious. I worried about not working out harder, my shorts riding up, completely irrational stuff. That lasted approximately 5 seconds. I re-focused and finished my walk, then made brief conversation with my friend before stretching and heading out.
The best part? My shorts stayed put.