I didn't intend this blog to be all about my infertility.
I intended it to be about my LIFE.
But then again, my LIFE is all about infertility these days, so I guess it makes sense that I would devote a couple of posts to fertility treatment.
Welcome to my hell
(please leave your dignity at the door).
Of course, I need to state for the record that despite all my grumbling, I am 100% grateful that infertility is covered by my health insurance. Without it, we'd either be out a cool $25,000 (that does not exist), or be shopping for kids in Guatamala.
Which may still happen yet, depending on if this fancy schmancy $25,000 procedure actually...yanno...works.
Still, grateful isn't exactly what I'm feeling when I'm injecting 2 ccs of hormones into my body, several times a day...despite my best efforts.
And grateful isn't exactly what I'm feeling when I can barely stand upright because my ovaries are having a block party and bringing down the house.
The roof...the roof...the roof is on fire!!!
What I am feeling....is every emotion known to man. In about a 5 minute period, none the less.
I have recieved three heartwarming cards in the last 24 hours, and cried while reading every. single. one.
I had some negative faculty feedback about my work, only to feel overwhelmed, sad, angry, and nonchalant in the first two minutes of recieving this feedback.
I've gotten seriously mad at Brian for existing.
Just continuing to breath oxygen and take up space.
And that, my friends, is when you know that you need to just chill the fuck out, have a cup of coffee and chocolate croissant, and talk about your feeling.
Which couldn't be more unlike me.
And then there is....the procedure.
I'll spare you the details, but it starts with "ultrasound needle" and ends with "vaginal wall"
And it's scheduled to happen this Thursday.
In other words, this hormonal pin-cushion of a woman is about to get very unpleasant things done to her, all for the sake of having a baby.
Shit. Is. Wild.
I have to go now.
I'm getting my ass handed to me with a project that was doomed from the start, making this week even more awesomer.
I mean, who doesn't like trying to handle boatloads of stress when they have enough FSH, HCG, and DO-RE-MI in their body to chemically castrate a bull elephant?!?
Wish me luck on Thursday.
And a prescription for good, strong pain medication.
Because I'm going to need a crap-ton of both.