12 minutes of Prozac

Tanning bed = Prozac.

I love tanning beds. I love the "sun". I love the heat. I love the alternative punk songs I can listen to when I'm soaking up the "sun" and heat.

But...here I am in the darkness of Alaska. No sun. No heat. No alternative punk songs b/c mom's don't listen to them.

I.
Am.
Lost.

However...

For 12 minutes I found myself. The self I liked so much before I lost it to my life.

I love my life. But I've lost myself in it. And in the darkness that is winter here.

But...for 12 minutes I found myself.

Maybe next week I can find myself for 13 minutes.

Bad Day

The Daniel Powter song keeps replaying over and over again in my head..."So you've had a bad day."

I haven't felt this sad and depressed in a long time.

The 14 days were actually only 9, but we didn't tell anyone. I'm glad too.

Now, I can sit here in my own grief and not worry about someone calling me to tell me how sorry they are for me.

They are sorry, b/c I can't have children like they can.

They are sorry, b/c they are uncomfortable with their own fertility and don't know what else to say.

They are sorry for me. I hate that.

I hate that someone has to be sorry for me.

Today and maybe for the rest of the week, I would wish no one here knew me. I wish no one knew we are completely infertile w/o a dr.'s assistance.

Ick...I'm so not looking forward to the conversations I know will be happening. I don't want to talk about it, which is unusual for me. But...this once...I don't want to talk about it. There is nothing to talk about.

We aren't pregnant. And unlike pretty much everyone else, we can't just wait until next month to try again. Nope.

We have to plan at least 6 months in advance. We plan 6 months in advance for one shot. How much does that suck?

Today...my life sucks.

Today I can only sing "Bad Day" songs.

Lists

To do list:

Sew:
~Crayon Rolls
~Finish cinch bags
~I Spy bags
~Fleece hats
~The Bug's Fleece Mittens

Vacuum House
Order Vinyl from Kaye
Fold Laundry
Wash Towels
Brush my teeth :)
Clear the table
Dust
Clean bathrooms/tub
Etc...Etc...Etc...

Yet here I sit on the computer.

Posting to my blogs.

Not on my "To-Do" List.

I think "To-Do" Lists are way overrated and created to make women feel inferior and lacking in their lives.

I think "To-Do" Lists should be eliminated completely.

Then I wouldn't feel nearly so guilty for sitting here on the computer. Posting to my blogs.

Which are not on my "To-Do" list.

Hormones

With 3 times the amount of estrogen, and 300mg of progesterone every day, I'm not sure how to react to anything.

And with a not-so-great transfer of blastocysts yesterday, I'm even more unsure.

Random things make me want to cry. I would prefer to sit on my couch under a blanket.

I try a thousand times a day to not think about how yesterday went.
To not think about when we can take a pregnancy test.
To not count the days when we can take the test.
To not think that every thing I'm doing is going to hinder the implantation process.
To not think about how I will react to a negative test.
To not think about how I will react to a positive test.
To not think how I will inform our family and friends who know what we've been going through about the result of the test, positive or negative.

A thousand times a day I'm not thinking about "it". But "it" won't leave me alone...at least not for another 2 weeks.

Or 14 days.

Or 336 hours.

But who's counting?

Friend

I am a terrible friend, surrounded by wonderful friends.

I forget birthdays. I'm late for things with friends. I don't call when I know I should.

I am a terrible friend. But I'm surrounded by the greatest friends.

I want to be better, and I try for awhile. Then I become a bad friend again.

I'm a good wife.

I'm a good mother.

I am a terrible friend.

Basketball Widow

I love being a mom. I love staying home with our kid. I love watching him grow and learn and be so dang cute! I love it!

I do not love being a basketball coach's wife.

Though I love being home, sometimes I love being able to get out. I love to go somewhere by myself...sometimes. I love being able to substitute teach so I can leave hubby home with child.

I do not love being a basketball coach's wife.

I don't get to get out and do nearly as much when I'm stuck at home while he is at: open gym, coaches meetings, pre-season out-of-town tournaments, practice, games, practice, games, tournaments, practice, and games.

I do not love being a basketball coach's wife.

I do love a happy husband...so I am a basketball coach's wife.

The darndest things.

People say the most incredible things sometimes. Example:

I'm having my blood drawn the other day to make sure I have enough estradiol for our FET (frozen embryo transfer). The lab tech drawing my blood, who knows our history, knows how hard we have to work to get a baby, knows we are an IVF family, says..."Well, it's great that at least this way you can space them out. You can plan exactly when you want to have a baby, right?"

Seriously?

Ya...it's great. I get to have huge amount of supplemental hormones in my body. I get to have my blood drawn to test those hormones. I get to have a vaginal ultrasound to make sure my uterine lining is thick enough to sustain the transfer. I get to do all this for a less than 20% chance our frozen blastocysts even thaw correctly. If we are part of that less than 20% that do thaw, we have to wait and see if they even "stick" in my uterus creating a pregnancy. If none of that works, then we get to start all over again with more hormone injections, more blood work, more vaginal ultrasounds, more sticking needles into my vagina to harvest the "eggs", more praying Doc can pick "alive" sperm to inject into our eggs, more waiting for them to fertilize and divide, more hoping we can transfer at least two, and more waiting for a positive pregnancy test.

Ya...it's great.

Seriously?

Hmmmm...

I've decided to start a separate blog for just me. Our family blog is great for documenting our life in Alaska, but hard to insert who I am into it. So now, this is just for me.

Yeah for me.