Me versus antibiotics: A battle for my body

Warning: This post is mostly one long complaint. I’m aware I have it better than some on this infertility “journey,” and for that I am grateful. But right now I’m just going to bitch.

I’ve been a human pincushion. I’ve grown gotten accustomed to having any number of wands and OB tools shoved up my lady parts. I’ve had a D&C and a medically-induced miscarriage. And then there was that epic biopsy. I get it — infertility is pain (and I’m just talking physically here, I won’t dare scratch the surface of the emotional). Of all of the things I’ve undertaken physically, I’m currently ranking side effects from my endometritis antibiotics among the crappiest (literally and figuratively).

I am taking 2,000 milligrams of antibiotics per day, for two weeks. That much should knock an infection out of an elephant. For reference, 2,000mg is more than double the amount that is typically prescribed for a common infection, like a UTI. It is A LOT of medication. A lot of medication that has been incredibly unkind to my gastrointestinal tract. Any GI issue you can think of I have probably experienced in the last week. Sometimes several at once. When it’s not painful, it’s irritating nausea (etc.) that just never goes away. I haven’t felt like myself (or, let’s be honest, anywhere close) since mere hours after I took my first dose. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’m just not going to feel any better until the antibiotics course is over. THREE MORE DAYS HALLELUJAH.

As I said, I get it. This infertility business hasn’t ever been easy. But man if this doesn’t really suck.


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