what are those stages of grief again???
Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance
So denial is where I have been spending most of my time. Not denial about infertility but denial about my “insulin resistance” which is supposedly the cause of all of my infertility problems.
Anger, it comes through at times but mostly I just get sad. Anger is what happens when I work too much but that my friends is a story for another day. 
Let me tell you how much I have “bargained” with my medical mind to come up with another reason for my “insulin resistance.”
- “The birth control caused my hormones to rebound and now my testosterone is all out of whack.”
- “They slapping the PCOS label on me because they have no other label to put on me.”
- ” I exercise and eat right so it can’t be me”
- “They {the doctors} don’t know anything about my problem because they haven’t studied it enough.”
All of those things are a lovely mix of denial and bargaining. Oh joy, reading my thoughts now makes me a little nauseous.
Then we have depression. Yes, isn’t it fun to be depressed {not!}.
And then the last stage: acceptance. I don’t know about you but I move in and out of acceptance daily, even by the hour.
~~~
So now that we (I) have had our little psychology lesson and background on my “issue” here is what happened yesterday on the phone with my RE:
He wanted to talk about putting me on Metformin (glucophage). The diabetes medication. For my insulin resistence. Which I have never really accepted as my true problem.
Yipppeeee! {not}
When I had initially met with him in June he had given me the option of Clomid or Metformin. Clomid seemed like the natural choice since it was the “sure” fix for ovulating which is my main problem. I was against Metformin from the start because you have to take two pills a day and it causes stomach upset and you have to take the pills for… life, basically. I don’t like taking pills and I don’t like being dependent on meds which led me right into denial and the happy place of Clomid.
Well, we all know that Clomid ain’t workin like it should be (don’t I sound refined?!)
So he doesn’t want me to keep trying it when we haven’t treated the root cause. Which does make sense but I hadn’t accepted my root cause, yet. So I asked him a lot of questions and he graciously answered them. He somewhat convinced me that this is my problem and the course that we need to take.
yada, yada.
I got off the phone, started crying and went to my closet (to shut out the world) with my ipod (armed with worship music) and started crying {out to God}. I am sad about a few things:
- that I have to take this medication that will instantly make people assume I am a diabetic when other people hear about it
- that I have to take medication to be pregnant
- that I will have to put something on the line when I go to the Dr. office about what medications I am on
- that I have to take this med for 3 months before trying clomid again
- that I have insulin resistence when I try so hard to be healthy
- that food has now become a focus for me when I have tried so hard not to make it a focus (since I overcame my eating disorder)
He doesn’t want me to eat simple, refined sugar. No white bread. He told me to exercise, several times. Which just ended up making me mad because I DO exercise. I run all the time and train for 1/2 marathons. But I am fragile when it comes to this food, exercise thing. Since I did have an eating disorder, I have worked very hard to make food = nutrition and have the mentality that nothing is “off limits” but that in moderation my weight can be controlled. Exercise is not something to do because you “have to” but because is healthy and gives you energy and sometimes fun. Now I feel that his words are a ball and chain around me and now something I “have” to do.
There are a lot of assumptions that people make when they hear I have PCOS: that I am fat (which I am not and am overly sensitive about and I hope I am not offending anyone reading this), that I don’t exercise, that I don’t eat well. All of these things aren’t true and I have worked hard during my life to get to this point. I hate the stigma.
Then when I went to the pharmacy to pick up the med, they all kept referring to the medication as a diabetic med and for high blood sugar. I just wanted to scream– I DON’T HAVE HIGH BLOOD SUGAR OR DIABETES!!!! But they don’t really care and somehow I am going to have to get over it.
Somehow I am just going to have to accept that this medication may help me (help my skin not have acne, help the hair growth stop and help me ovulate).
Yesterday, my hubby bought me roses and made it official “therapy” day. So we went out on a date, ate Chipolte and had ice cream. 
And today I am somewhere between the happy-land of acceptance and disappointment.
But I do feel Him, I know He is there to help me, I know I will get through this and I know there are worse things in life than taking metformin.
“Disappointment…reminds us we are not in control and were never meant to be.” -Glenn Packaim
