Today I asked Den if we could go out for a quick dinner – nothing fancy or anything, just maybe a small local place. We ended up somewhere we’ve never been in before, even though it’s 5 minutes from our house. I looked over the menu for a long time, eying the sandwiches and wraps, but finally ended up ordering a pasta dish with shrimp and bacon. I actually tend to like shrimp in my pasta. It did say olive oil, which didn’t sound too appetizing, but eh, I’ll try it.

I was eating my salad when it arrived. I hadn’t even looked up from my salad when suddenly I sat up straight, eyes wide.
“You okay?” Den asked.
“Something just smells…” I leaned an inch closer to my pasta dish and sniffed. I think I may have turned green. Shrimp has never smelled so seafoody. And the big chunks of fatty, greasy bacon, all mixed in with oil in the poor pasta. I gagged.
“Uhh… Are you going to be able to eat that?” He watched me cautiously.

I took a small bite of pasta with a tiny bit of shrimp. It didn’t taste too awful, honestly. But the smell, oh my god the smell. I sat up straight for a few minutes, breathing in slowly (and leaning away from the dish), before excusing myself to run to the bathroom. I didn’t throw up – as soon as I got in the bathroom with the overwhelming smell of soap instead of shrimp, I was fine. I heard Den talking to the waitress.

I returned to my seat as the waitress took the pasta dish away to wrap up. “It’ll all be worth it,” she chuckled to me. “We’ll get this all wrapped up so you don’t smell it.” Den told me he’d ordered me the turkey wrap I had been looking at on the menu. When it arrived I ate it (well, half of it) without incident. Some fries, too, they were good.

But for the drive home I put the wrapped food on the floor – and pushed it as far away as I could with my feet. I also opened the window a crack.

I have never, in two pregnancies, reacted that way to a smell – food or otherwise.

::

There is an infertility conference coming up this Saturday that I was interested in going to – unfortunately I work until noon on saturdays (and the one session that I really want to go to is before noon), and I am already pregnant. Me being pregnant would not be an obstacle for me, as I am still very much infertile and we hope/plan to go through IVF again in the future. But I’ve noticed when looking at the schedule that a large part of the sessions offered focus on things like sex and intimacy during treatments, alternative therapies, stress management. While these are all very important topics that I think many of us can use when going through treatments, it is not what I am looking for right now. (They also have some “what to expect in your IVF cycle” type sessions, which at this point for me is simply laughable. I could GIVE that seminar.)

Maybe I’m in the minority, but I want info. The one session I wanted to go to was “Choosing The Best Embryo: What happens in the lab, how embryologists and clinicians interact to make decisions to choose the best embryos for success, and the prevention of multiple births.” What I see in my mind when thinking about a conference all about IVF is information on all the latest technologies and protocols; how and why they do what they do in the lab; comparisons of different protocols. I want the data, the facts, the science. Skip the “how to feel better” – I can do that on my own. What I CAN’T do is easily decipher medical journals, or delve into clinic data and trends. I don’t just want to know how my lab is going to treat me – I want to know what protocols they won’t use, and why. I want to know why they decide on a 5-day or 3-day transfer.

But then I know I’m not a typical patient. I know that the typical person who goes to this conference is probably new to IF, confused, and looking for some kind of clarification and direction. So what the hell do you do when you are far past confused and directionless, but most obviously not at the level of a medical professional? I’m the “advanced” IVFer.

Honestly I still have thoughts of pursuing a career in the field – for far more reasons than “I already know far too much about it anyways” (though that helps). I find it all fascinating. Plus I’ve been there, too many times, on the table, on the other end. I know how absolutely imperative it is that forward progress continues to be made in this field. I’m one of the ones with a “unique” problem, one of the first few successfully a new protocol that may end up helping hundreds of others – I know what an amazing feeling it is to know that something I did could cause so much good for people in my position, fighting the same battle.

I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t know if wanting to go into this field – IF/IVF/Pregnancy – is just one of those phases that will pass by, or if it’s something I should seriously consider. I’d be excited at the prospect of going back to school in the future – if it didn’t cost so damn much that I don’t even know if it’s possible.

I know I want to keep learning – for my own sake, for others.

It’s too bad I can’t go to that conference.