I'm having a hard time...a really hard time. It sort of feels good to say that, just to get it out there. After this last failed attempt I wept...for days. A friend of mine, Katja, was visiting the evening I found out. She has a long commute to work and spends a couple of nights a week at our house. I always joke and say I'm married but I basically live in a dorm because of all the people that come and go. It's always pretty chill with her but that night was the first night I wished she wasn't there.
I called Eddie into the bathroom. I wonder what it must be like for him. To get the worried call from the bathroom. To see me still sitting on the pot with eyes as wide as a doe. I wonder if my eyes looked as empty as I felt in that moment. I'm sure I looked pale, stripped of all color...except for maybe green. I felt sick with despair.
I couldn't believe it. I could not believe my eyes. I thought for sure it had worked that time. We had two good embryos! 8 cellers! 2 of them! Why the hell didn't they stick?!? I tried to stifle the cries in the bathroom because I knew Katja was in the living room but I couldn't. As soon as Eddie wrapped his arms around me I lost it. The loudest, most pathetic cries came out of my body. I almost didn't recognize the sounds. I didn't know I was capable of crying like that. The bathroom doors were closed but I heard Teddy (our Rotty) scratching at the outside of the one. It makes him anxious when I cry. I think it makes Eddie equally as anxious. I feel their tension but I couldn't hold back.
I was in the middle of making dinner when I thought I could run to the bathroom real quick. I had no idea all my hopes were about to be crushed. At that moment, eating was the last thing on my mind. Eddie went to the kitchen and continued where I left off with dinner while I went and took a shower.
I've spoken before about not using tissues anymore because they can't hold all of my tears and snot. I mentioned before about using old towels instead. With the previous failed attempt, I simply let my tears drip to the floor. However, this time, I went straight into the shower. I knew I would need to mop afterwards if I stayed on the bathroom floor. Instead, I sat on the shower floor, feeling sorry for myself. The cool water felt good on my face but then I changed it to hot. I sat with my knees to my chest and I let the hot water beat down on my shoulders and back. I cried the whole time. The cries differed from whimpers to wails and everything in between. I thought about Eddie, my brother-in-law and Katja in the kitchen, awkwardly eating their food while my screams echoed off the shower walls and down the hall. I felt bad. I felt embarrassed. But I couldn't contain my sobs. I felt like if I did, there was a high chance I would explode...and that would be an even bigger mess to clean up than some slobber and tears on the bathroom floor.
I tried to wake myself up. This couldn't really be happening, could it? All the mucous drained from my nose. Every now and then I would blow my nose into my hand and rinse my hand off in the running water. (Classy, Rach.) Just when I thought only God could see me in such a pathetic state, Eddie peeked his head around the shower curtain. He said some kind, encouraging words but I don't remember them anymore. I was in a fog of self pity. I was in there for a while. When my cries crescendo-ed I heard the door open and Eddie would check in on me. "I'm fine." I lied. "I'll be fine." I corrected. "I just need 10 minutes of this." As he turned and walked away I told myself I had to get it together soon. Not just for our guest waiting at the kitchen table but because every time Eddie sees me breakdown like that he threatens not to do any more infertility treatments. He says it's too hard on me. Maybe that's code for it's too hard on him to see me like that?
Eventually I got out of the shower and went and sat at the table. I didn't feel like eating but I felt like I had to to prove I was better and because Eddie cooked. Everyone at the table did a good job and not staring at me. My Tshirt had a big stain in the middle and my eyelids were swollen like golf balls. I tried to make small talk but I just felt so drained. It was a quick dinner and I hurried off to bed.
I remember talking to my mom on the phone some days later. She asked how I was feeling and suggested some activities to keep my mind occupied. I told her that I was approaching day 3 of not putting on pants. Anything that involved putting on pants or a bra was absolutely out of the question.
One day, I overheard Eddie talking on the phone to a concerned friend or family member. I assume they asked about me because he replied with "She's a mess," in a hushed voice. I wanted to jump up and confront him. I wanted to go into the other room where he was talking on the phone, wave my arms around, and signal to him that he shouldn't say that! "Tell them I'm fine!" I wanted to say. "Say you were joking!" I wanted to demand...but moving that quickly would have required energy, energy that I didn't have. My frustration with his comment strangely turned to acceptance. I wanted to deny it but the truth was - I was a mess. I surrender.
A bill came last week for about 9,500 Euros.
That's over 13 grand in US dollars.
Can we pause for a minute so that sinks in?
I repeat - 13,000 dollars...and it has to be paid in about two weeks from now. That would be all fine and dandy if I had a healthy baby in my arms or one growing in my belly. But what do I have to show for all that money gone? Dare I say, "wasted?"
And those 13 G's are just for the procedures. That doesn't include my meds. With the first cycle I lined them up on my kitchen table but this is what they look like now after 3 cycles -
1 ampule of Decapeptyl and its mixing solution - 95 Euros - $131. Next to those small little bottles you can see that they usually come in a package of 10.
1 shot of 900 Units of Gonal - 338 euros - about $470. Go ahead and count the injections of varying units.
1 (ONE!) injection of Orgalutran - 53 euros - $73.
With the value of the contents on that table combined with my procedure bills we could easily have bought a new car. A down payment on new home? Instead, we have nothing. Empty arms, empty womb, empty hearts. I will pay that bill and have nothing to show for it. Talk about a continual daily pit in your stomach. After the disappointment of a failed attempt, the bill is just a postal slap in the face. No. Your period is a blindsided slap to the face - the bill is more like a punch to the face.
Sometimes I want to say "I've never wanted anything more than to be a mom." But that would be a lie. I remember when Eddie was diagnosed and how I asked, no, pleaded for God to heal him...and quickly! I also remember during that time I wanted nothing more than to be Mrs. Eduard Frick. Sometimes I forget about the desperation of those years. Well, today, I am Mrs. Frick and Eddie is healthy. I try daily to focus on these blessings and answered prayers. If I never become a mom I hope God lets me keep him and our health for as long as possible. It would just be the cherry on top to be able to have his babies someday too.
282. Germans have different sounds of expression.
Instead of "Wow!" for surprise - "BOAH!"
Instead of "Ew!" for disgust - "EEEEE!"
Instead of "Huh?" for confusion - it's "HÄ?"
Instead of "Shh!" - "Psht!"
The way they summon a cat is different. (I can only demonstrate that in person.)
Instead of "goochy goochy goo" or "tickle tickle tickle" for tickling someone - "Kille kille kille." The first time a random little German boy tickled me my sister-in-law had to explain to me what he was doing!
283. A lot of streets in the villages are basically one lane streets...but they still have two way traffic! It makes me nervous because I have to look way ahead for other cars. If you come across another car, one usually has to move really far to the side or put it in reverse and back up to a place where there is room. Annoying not to mention dangerous!
284. The word for a hoarder or hoarding in German..."Messysyndrome"...not even joking! Messy syndrome. Love it!
285. A few years ago, a speeding Swedish driver was fined 650,000 Euros ($850,200) and possible jail time after being clocked at 180mph while driving through Switzerland. One of the many cameras on the highway caught him...dumby.
Side note: He was 37 and driving a $219,000 Mercedes SLS AMG. His age and annual income plays a factor in the amount of money he has to pay.
Moral of the story. Do NOT speed in Switzerland.
286. They have Mary Kay in Germany.
287. Random, weird songs were really popular in Germany. I could go for months/years without hearing them in the States but I hear these songs here often: Tina Turner - Simply the Best, Blue Cantrell - Hit 'Em Up Style, Prince - Most Beautiful Girl in the World
???? Really? Why those?
288. Germans have an ID, a driver license, and a passport. In the US, our drivers license is our ID and I know many people that don’t even have passports.
289. “Rachel, you must have so many frequent flier miles.” False. I am not loyal to one specific airline. I just go with whatever’s cheapest!
290. Even their emergency/police sirens have accents! ;)
American vs. German
Warning- the sound automatically starts playing when you click the link, adjust your sound accordingly. Theirs is more of a hi-low and it changes pitch once it passes.
I called Eddie into the bathroom. I wonder what it must be like for him. To get the worried call from the bathroom. To see me still sitting on the pot with eyes as wide as a doe. I wonder if my eyes looked as empty as I felt in that moment. I'm sure I looked pale, stripped of all color...except for maybe green. I felt sick with despair.
I couldn't believe it. I could not believe my eyes. I thought for sure it had worked that time. We had two good embryos! 8 cellers! 2 of them! Why the hell didn't they stick?!? I tried to stifle the cries in the bathroom because I knew Katja was in the living room but I couldn't. As soon as Eddie wrapped his arms around me I lost it. The loudest, most pathetic cries came out of my body. I almost didn't recognize the sounds. I didn't know I was capable of crying like that. The bathroom doors were closed but I heard Teddy (our Rotty) scratching at the outside of the one. It makes him anxious when I cry. I think it makes Eddie equally as anxious. I feel their tension but I couldn't hold back.
I was in the middle of making dinner when I thought I could run to the bathroom real quick. I had no idea all my hopes were about to be crushed. At that moment, eating was the last thing on my mind. Eddie went to the kitchen and continued where I left off with dinner while I went and took a shower.
I've spoken before about not using tissues anymore because they can't hold all of my tears and snot. I mentioned before about using old towels instead. With the previous failed attempt, I simply let my tears drip to the floor. However, this time, I went straight into the shower. I knew I would need to mop afterwards if I stayed on the bathroom floor. Instead, I sat on the shower floor, feeling sorry for myself. The cool water felt good on my face but then I changed it to hot. I sat with my knees to my chest and I let the hot water beat down on my shoulders and back. I cried the whole time. The cries differed from whimpers to wails and everything in between. I thought about Eddie, my brother-in-law and Katja in the kitchen, awkwardly eating their food while my screams echoed off the shower walls and down the hall. I felt bad. I felt embarrassed. But I couldn't contain my sobs. I felt like if I did, there was a high chance I would explode...and that would be an even bigger mess to clean up than some slobber and tears on the bathroom floor.
I tried to wake myself up. This couldn't really be happening, could it? All the mucous drained from my nose. Every now and then I would blow my nose into my hand and rinse my hand off in the running water. (Classy, Rach.) Just when I thought only God could see me in such a pathetic state, Eddie peeked his head around the shower curtain. He said some kind, encouraging words but I don't remember them anymore. I was in a fog of self pity. I was in there for a while. When my cries crescendo-ed I heard the door open and Eddie would check in on me. "I'm fine." I lied. "I'll be fine." I corrected. "I just need 10 minutes of this." As he turned and walked away I told myself I had to get it together soon. Not just for our guest waiting at the kitchen table but because every time Eddie sees me breakdown like that he threatens not to do any more infertility treatments. He says it's too hard on me. Maybe that's code for it's too hard on him to see me like that?
Eventually I got out of the shower and went and sat at the table. I didn't feel like eating but I felt like I had to to prove I was better and because Eddie cooked. Everyone at the table did a good job and not staring at me. My Tshirt had a big stain in the middle and my eyelids were swollen like golf balls. I tried to make small talk but I just felt so drained. It was a quick dinner and I hurried off to bed.
I remember talking to my mom on the phone some days later. She asked how I was feeling and suggested some activities to keep my mind occupied. I told her that I was approaching day 3 of not putting on pants. Anything that involved putting on pants or a bra was absolutely out of the question.
One day, I overheard Eddie talking on the phone to a concerned friend or family member. I assume they asked about me because he replied with "She's a mess," in a hushed voice. I wanted to jump up and confront him. I wanted to go into the other room where he was talking on the phone, wave my arms around, and signal to him that he shouldn't say that! "Tell them I'm fine!" I wanted to say. "Say you were joking!" I wanted to demand...but moving that quickly would have required energy, energy that I didn't have. My frustration with his comment strangely turned to acceptance. I wanted to deny it but the truth was - I was a mess. I surrender.
A bill came last week for about 9,500 Euros.
That's over 13 grand in US dollars.
Can we pause for a minute so that sinks in?
I repeat - 13,000 dollars...and it has to be paid in about two weeks from now. That would be all fine and dandy if I had a healthy baby in my arms or one growing in my belly. But what do I have to show for all that money gone? Dare I say, "wasted?"
And those 13 G's are just for the procedures. That doesn't include my meds. With the first cycle I lined them up on my kitchen table but this is what they look like now after 3 cycles -
(We're gonna need a bigger table...)
1 ampule of Decapeptyl and its mixing solution - 95 Euros - $131. Next to those small little bottles you can see that they usually come in a package of 10.
1 shot of 900 Units of Gonal - 338 euros - about $470. Go ahead and count the injections of varying units.
1 (ONE!) injection of Orgalutran - 53 euros - $73.
With the value of the contents on that table combined with my procedure bills we could easily have bought a new car. A down payment on new home? Instead, we have nothing. Empty arms, empty womb, empty hearts. I will pay that bill and have nothing to show for it. Talk about a continual daily pit in your stomach. After the disappointment of a failed attempt, the bill is just a postal slap in the face. No. Your period is a blindsided slap to the face - the bill is more like a punch to the face.
Sometimes I want to say "I've never wanted anything more than to be a mom." But that would be a lie. I remember when Eddie was diagnosed and how I asked, no, pleaded for God to heal him...and quickly! I also remember during that time I wanted nothing more than to be Mrs. Eduard Frick. Sometimes I forget about the desperation of those years. Well, today, I am Mrs. Frick and Eddie is healthy. I try daily to focus on these blessings and answered prayers. If I never become a mom I hope God lets me keep him and our health for as long as possible. It would just be the cherry on top to be able to have his babies someday too.
America vs. Germany
281. Germans often confuse "make it" and "do it." In German both verbs are "machen." They'll also say "Can you make a picture of us?" Instead of can you take a picture. Eddie sometimes says "I don't know if I can make it." Sometimes this sentence still fits like make it up a hill or make it to an appointment but he usually means, I don't know if I can DO it.282. Germans have different sounds of expression.
Instead of "Wow!" for surprise - "BOAH!"
Instead of "Ew!" for disgust - "EEEEE!"
Instead of "Huh?" for confusion - it's "HÄ?"
Instead of "Shh!" - "Psht!"
The way they summon a cat is different. (I can only demonstrate that in person.)
Instead of "goochy goochy goo" or "tickle tickle tickle" for tickling someone - "Kille kille kille." The first time a random little German boy tickled me my sister-in-law had to explain to me what he was doing!
283. A lot of streets in the villages are basically one lane streets...but they still have two way traffic! It makes me nervous because I have to look way ahead for other cars. If you come across another car, one usually has to move really far to the side or put it in reverse and back up to a place where there is room. Annoying not to mention dangerous!
284. The word for a hoarder or hoarding in German..."Messysyndrome"...not even joking! Messy syndrome. Love it!
285. A few years ago, a speeding Swedish driver was fined 650,000 Euros ($850,200) and possible jail time after being clocked at 180mph while driving through Switzerland. One of the many cameras on the highway caught him...dumby.
Side note: He was 37 and driving a $219,000 Mercedes SLS AMG. His age and annual income plays a factor in the amount of money he has to pay.
Moral of the story. Do NOT speed in Switzerland.
286. They have Mary Kay in Germany.
287. Random, weird songs were really popular in Germany. I could go for months/years without hearing them in the States but I hear these songs here often: Tina Turner - Simply the Best, Blue Cantrell - Hit 'Em Up Style, Prince - Most Beautiful Girl in the World
???? Really? Why those?
288. Germans have an ID, a driver license, and a passport. In the US, our drivers license is our ID and I know many people that don’t even have passports.
289. “Rachel, you must have so many frequent flier miles.” False. I am not loyal to one specific airline. I just go with whatever’s cheapest!
290. Even their emergency/police sirens have accents! ;)
American vs. German
Warning- the sound automatically starts playing when you click the link, adjust your sound accordingly. Theirs is more of a hi-low and it changes pitch once it passes.
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