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One full year

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Hello peeps. Sorry to have missed ya for a couple of days, but I was celebrating the Jewish New Year in style. And by “style” I mean synagogue. Ok…I “may” have gone to the mall on one of the days that I was supposed to be at temple…but hopefully God will let that one slide.

With fall around the corner, shorter days, earlier sunsets, it feels like a good time to mark a transition into a new beginning. This September will be one full year since I’ve ovulated. One full year of hoping, tracking, worrying, celebrating, “trying”. It’s very hard for me to look back on this year and not feel defeated. Could I have done more to help Hubs and I conceive? Could I have dieted harder, or exercised more? Less? Is something that I am doing, eating, breathing causing my system to fritz? There has not been one. single. day that I have not woken up this year thinking, wondering, hoping, praying, worrying…that today could be the day things all turn around. I am trying to celebrate my small victories but they pale in comparison to the big fat failure that is my ovaries.

I don’t know if it’s possible for me to say, “This year, I will stop worrying so much about when or if I will get pregnant.” I can’t make promises like that to myself. I want peace from this, and yet, I cannot be at peace with a life without children. I have no answer for how to achieve peace when my internal world is going through all sorts of physical and emotional turmoil because of this. Accepting that I am not in control feels like an impossibility when all I read, see, and hear about are others who “took Metformin and cycled” or “tried Chasteberry, and it works!” In reality, who KNOWS what was going on with their bodies that made them cycle. Rationally, I know this…but hearing these stories makes me feel like there is a “right choice” out there for me, and I’m just missing it at every turn. Every choice I make about what I eat, when I sleep, what pills I take, or how much I sweat during a workout all feels tied to fertility in some way or another. It’s enough to drive a person mad, and you know what? I am mad. Pissed. Furious. I’m so damn mad that I have to be going through this.

It wouldn’t be true to say that this year, I’m turning over a new leaf and exchanging my toxic anger and rage for some blissed out peace on earth “one-ness”. I can’t say that this year, I’m going to let it all go and just “be”. And part of me feels that if I just learned to “let it all go”, I would cycle, and the fact that I carry this anger is fucking everything up. What is in my control, what is out of my control…it’s all confused right now, and frankly? I don’t want to be at peace with letting the Universe guide me. Who is this all mighty Universe, and if it’s so great, why won’t it fix my broke ass piece of shit reproductive system?

I wish there was a take-away from this post about how I’m going to improve myself this year, or 5 Easy Tips to Forgetting that You May Never Give Your Husband Children, but it all feels like bullshit right now.

Of course, maybe this gloom and doom is the Clomid typing. I finished my last round of 100mg Clomid last night. I’m on CD8 , fighting to be optimistic about this cycle. Puppies, rainbows, unicorns, ovulation.

Cup Half Full

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Well…probably not *technically* half full, but many many millions¬† of Hubs’ swimmers are now floating in a plastic cup in an office somewhere, off to get the one, two checkeroo. I’m trying to be an optimist about this. Results will be great. No problems (please God).

Hubs called me as soon as he dropped the boys (and girls) off at daycare, to give me the rated PG-13 play by play. From what I can tell, this jack-off room they have guys go into to do their business is no walk in the park. He said it was very clinical, and there were about 5 obviously used Penthouse magazines in there. He said there was a TV/DVD player with headphones, but no DVDs! Cheap!

The whole idea of ejaculating into a cup in an office building seems really strange to me, and it makes me proud that Hubs took this awkward and slightly creepy step for us to make sure that we’re doing all we can to ensure that we’re covering our bases in the fertility realm.

I’m trying to figure out why I am so worried that the results will not turn out good…I hate this about myself. I want to be positive. CUP HALF FULL. I will keep repeating this over and over to myself until we get the results.