There's a topic I have been avoiding on here lately.
At my pre-op appointment for the hysteroscopy, Dr. Foreign Accent asked us when we wanted to start in on IUI. He was all ready to get this show on the road.
We were not.
It's not that we aren't ready to be pregnant and have children - we're more than ready, it's something Mr. Joe and I have been discussing alot lately.
I think the problem is that are not ready to admit defeat. Right now, I have all these theories about how fixing my heart shaped box (making my ute triangle and normal shaped) is going to improve our chances of naturally conceiving, despite the fact that Dr. Foreign Accent says that one has nothing to do with the other. I am still convinced that this can happen without having to involve a third party, even though I invited that third party in the first place. That maybe now that I'll have a lining all the way around my ute that it will magically rebalance my hormones and I'll have normal cycles again.
Dr. FA was pretty surprised when we told him we just wanted to try Clomid for now. In fact, he flat out said he didn't think it would work, but he wrote out an Rx anyway and handed it to me, saying "Good luck . . ." in his thick Argentinian accent.
I filled it the next day, and have been staring at the bottle for weeks. I can't bring myself to take it. Why? I don't know. I think if I take it and it doesn't work, then I will have to admit that there is no magical fix. That there is something wrong with me. With Mr. Joe. With us.
Instead, I have been charting. I'm on CD20, 4DPO according to Fertility Frenemy, but who knows if this will work this time. Maybe, maybe not.
I find myself falling into the same tired excuses - maybe it's not our time, maybe it's because we were too early or too late in getting it on, maybe I DO need to relax! Maybe it's because we don't have mood lighting and candles in our bedroom! Maybe we need to do it upside down!
All of this makes me depressed. Sad that one more thing is not going my way. Then the sadness brings on memories of my brother, and the fact that I hate my job, and Mr. Joe has been busting his ass at his job and isn't getting the recognition he deserves, and that yet ANOTHER person on my team at work is knocked up, bringing it to a grand total of 3 people I know getting KU in a month's time. Then I become envious and bitter and I turn into someone I don't like. I used to be happy(ish) with what I had. I hate where we live, but I was happy with owning a home. My dog was my baby. I was content. Now, I turn into a bitter frostybox beeotch at work because everyone has babies on the brain. I get aggrivated when I see Facebook status about bringing awareness to cancer (BTW, WHO THE FUCK DOESN'T KNOW ABOUT CANCER, OR KNOW SOMEONE WHO HAS IT, OR LOST SOMEONE TO IT? HOW IS POSTING THAT ON YOUR FACEBOOK PAGE GOING TO HELP?? see? complete frostybox). I sob on the way home from work because life is so unfair that crazy people can have babies and assholes survive cancer and people that are awful and mean get ahead and POOR MRS. JOE wah wah wah. I make myself sick over the person I become when I let it take over.
So I avoid the topic altogether. I focus on McFatty Mondays. Most of the people I comment on are mommy bloggers, which can sometimes be hard, but I like them. I feel better when they encourage me on MM. I pretend to not be thinking about TTC constantly - but it's there, right on my sleeve.
So, in case you've been wondering, that's why I haven't mentioned it.
1 comment:
We've been discussing the IUI step (if I ever stinkin ovulate!) and I'm having a lot of the same concerns. Do I really want to admit I can't do this on my own? On the other hand, if I finally ovulate, do I want to leave our chances up to a bunch of amatures (ie - me and the hubs)?
Oy vey. Add it to the list of all the other choices we have to make!
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