It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve posted a ‘proper’ personal update. Don’t know why really, I got a bit like this last IVF round. On one hand there is so much going on in my head, so much to say; on the other hand I don’t really feel like saying anything because….well, none of its new*.
I’m still down-regging, although have also been taking the HRT drugs (Progynova) for 2 of the 4 weeks and since I’ve been on them I’ve felt a lot more normal. I have a scan on 31st (which is also payday, and also more importantly #IFpumpkinsmackdown closing day!) to see if my lining is thick enough, and if it is we’ll probably go for transfer the next week. I go through various emotions about this ranging from numbness to fear to ever-so-occasionally excitement.
Other than forever down-regging, I have actually been up to some pretty positive exciting stuff! I’ve booked my wedding! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What a crazy thing to do mid-IVF cycle I hear you cry. And yes, you would be right. It’s totally stupid. But I don’t care. We need something to look forward to that is DEFINATELY going to happen on the day we want it to happen. The last IVF BFN cemented in both our hearts that we just want to get married, and to hell with the practicalities so that is what we will do on 8th October 2014.
So I booked the registrar, I booked the venue for the ceremony and the reception and was super happy and excited. Then I did a stupid thing. I emailed my father to tell him. I also gave him a quick update on how the IVF is going, how tough I’m finding it this time and how it all generally sucks.
I should know by now that my father’s main talent in life is doing or saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. By now I should know that just because I would want him to respond by saying he was sorry it was so tough this time, and that he is happy we’ve set a date, it’s not the response I’m going to get. Instead the answer I got was basically how inconvenient it will be for him as my brother is getting married in Italy next year (in May) to have to come over from California twice in 1 year. Thanks Daddy dearest. Way to get excited.
I’ve not really written about my father on this blog. I’m not sure why, since in many ways he was the reason I waited probably a few years longer than I would have otherwise to start trying for children. My parents got married when they were in their early twenties and emigrated from England to Canada. My Dad’s job then moved them to Texas which is where I was born. Nine months after I was born my parents split up and my mum moved us back to England and my Dad stayed in Texas. When we were little we used to go over to Texas every summer to visit (NB: small town Texas is not the place for a little girl to have fun summers). The rest of the year Dad would call once a week and we’d have very awkward conversations.
These days we speak on the phone probably 3 or 4 times a year, mostly initiated by me. It’s usually a fairly dull conversation dominated by his recent work contracts and the latest places he’s played golf. He forgets all our birthdays (including his grandkids) every year – sometimes we get a card a few weeks/months later, sometimes not. We usually see him once every 2 or 3 years but it’s now been 5 years since he’s been over.
If ever you try to share anything emotional/important with him he gives an inappropriate and usually insensitive response. Eg when I first told him about our TTC struggles he said it was probably a good thing as with all this global warming etc the world was going to be hell in the future anyway.
I don’t know why but his inability to be a good father, his inability to genuinely care about his children and now grandchildren deeply upsets me. It always has. The only thing I really know about my father is that he just does not have the emotional capacity to give us anything else – the fact that he’s on his forth marriage is a sign of how good he is at relationships. Expecting him to be any better just hurts me again and again. I just don’t know how to stop wanting him to care, despite having an amazing mother and a wonderful step-father.
So when my ovaries started squeaking about wanting kids in my mid-late 20s I waited. I waited because I wanted to make absolutely sure this is what I wanted. I waited until I knew that I couldn’t ever imagine my life without children. Because I know what it’s like to be a child of someone who had kids because ‘that’s what you do’, rather than because he genuinely wanted to be a parent. I didn’t wait too long – just a few years until I was 30. But I didn’t know then that I have a crappy AMH and that really every year counts.
It’s not just him either. I know sooo many useless fathers (my sister and SIL’s ex’s to give 2 examples). It breaks my heart that DH would give anything to be a father and so many men just throw this gift away. I know it’s not only men, there are plenty of useless mothers out there too, but it’s useless fathers I have a speciality in!
Soooo I don’t really know where this post is/was going! It was supposed to be a positive one about my wedding, and ended up a fairly miserable one about my rubbish father! Which is actually a fairly good reflection of my mood at the mo – I try to keep positive, but somehow the negative creeps back in.
*despite having ‘nothing to say’ this has ended up a pretty long post!