So, maybe I’m a masochist. Or maybe just crazy. I was told when THE SUCK happened that I would have to wait at least two months before resuming the fun of ralphing every single day and shitting through the eye of a needle (metformin is SOOOO not my friend) in order to get pregnant. And sooooooooo… I called the fertility clinic on Friday.
I cannot express how much I LOOOOOOOOVE my asshole RE’s receptionist. She is the kindest, sweetest, most cheerful woman in the WORLD… and not in a way that makes you want to smack the face off her!!
My next appt: June 8th.
Friends have started broaching the subject. CAREFULLY… funny how they seem to have NO problems telling me that “these things happen for a reason” but they’re SCARED to ask me if we’re going to try again.. weird. In either case, most have seemed quite surprised that my husband and I are both eager to try again. (and when I say my husband and I, I actually MEAN my husband and I… I’m not forcing him!!! :D) I can’t imagine why we WOULD wait- we’ve been trying to have a baby for THREE YEARS!!! Why would we just quit now?? Yes, we are still heartbroken, and devastated. In a perfect world, we wouldn’t HAVE to be trying again- because I’d still be PREGNANT!! But that didn’t happen- does that mean I’m supposed to put my dreams on hold?? Or to be too afraid to try again?? (fat f’n chance of that- I’ve always been stubborn to the point of stupidity… remind me to tell you the story about getting hit by a car because I stubbornly refused to listen to my parents about the dangers of a particularly busy intersection!)
June will be our two-month mark… and so June is my appt. I figure by the time we have all of the testing RE-DONE… it will be at least two or three weeks before we know what approach we are going to take this time. The most likely scenario is that we’ll follow the same protocol that worked last time, with the exception that we’ll be staying in close contact with Doc. M at the big fancy city hospital so he can be apprised of when he’s got to sew me shut. (how sad is THAT- I live within 25 minutes of the second largest city in my province… and the hospital here can’t even perform a cerclage… I have to DRIVE 2.5 hours away…pathetic!!)
And what’s the CRAZIEST bit- I’m excited. I could barely contain my elation after speaking with the clinic receptionist. I don’t feel like this is a betrayal of my son, or myself, or my husband… I don’t feel like I am in denial- I feel like I am moving forward. There are still milestones to cross- but I’ve gotten past one month, and I feel human. I’ve been doing things to improve myself and my surroundings. I’ve caught up on laundry, my kitchen is so clean you could eat off my floor (but I have cats so you couldn’t actually pay me enough to do so!!)… I have FINALLY stopped procrastinating, and done up my bedroom properly- put up my wall sconces, and actually put candles in them- cleaned out, and set up my table-top fountain… and kept it going… I have made my bed- WITH all the foofy throw pillows every single day since the day I got home from the hospital…. It feels good…. I know this all probably sounds like a load of hooey… but truly, it’s always been about the small things with me. I feel like in doing these things, I’m healing my home, and I’m healing myself…. hell, I quit smoking dammit!!! And I’ve managed to STAY quit (even though some days since THE SUCK have been REALLY f’n hard)… I still drink like a fish if the occasion calls for it, and I’m a confirmed carnivore- so you won’t ever see me going for a jog while sipping wheat grass sludge- but I HAVE been exercising, and trying to eat healthier… part of me wonders if my subconscious is having me do these things, maybe I don’t wonder if my home had been tidier, or if I’d been healthier this wouldn’t have happened…and then I remember the argument on the baby. cen.ter forum with the woman who got drunk off her ass while pregnant and wanted sympathy and for people to tell her that her baby would be FINE and not have FAS because she was a dumb twat- SHE is still pregnant.
And so, I have realized that I need to do these things for ME- and not analyze why I’m doing them… but to just do what feels good, and right for me… And if getting pregnant again, and having another baby is what I want and even need… then who are others to judge? Until they’ve been in my shoes, and walked my road, they can’t.