After last week's frenzy of appointments and decisions and activity, I feel again as though I'm suspended in liquid waiting to be allowed to move. The HSG appointment with NY.U is canceled, and we're waiting.
Waiting for me to get my period, so I can call Cor.nell and set up a different HSG appointment. Waiting for Lawyer Guy to return home from his business trip so he can call and schedule his semen analysis (he was making vague noises about getting it done "next week," which honestly is not what I want, but he's so anxious about it that I don't have the heart to push anything). Waiting to find out what our treatment options are and if we can try anything this upcoming cycle. Back to waiting, and I'm not any better at it than I was 18 months ago, despite the excellent practice I've now had.
I'm fat and broken out and lethargic and depressed and disgusting, so it's obvious my period is coming (set to arrive this upcoming weekend). I've accepted that and given up much hope of conceiving without assistance, though LG was deeply upset when I mentioned how crampy I was feeling over the weekend. He'd thought we might get out of all this at the last minute. No such luck.
Right now, I really just want to get started. I want to do something--anything!--that will improve our chances. I want to take a shot in the dark just for the satisfaction of no longer sitting on my ass praying the fertility gods will bless me.
I read the blogs of women undergoing treatment, and they often seem tired. Tired of the blood draws and the injections and the pills and the ultrasounds and the doctors' appointments and the failures. I'm sure I'll get to a point, too, where the charm of reproductive intervention ceases to be charming. But at this point, I'm so tired of doing nothing and leaving it all to fickle chance. I just want my shot. I want to feel like I've started something new.
Watch me eat this words about four months from now. But this is where I am today.
Reinvention of a blog
6 months ago