Had the HSN today and everything looked good. (Though why is it that doctors seem to think that small-talk while they’re shoving various implements into one’s girl-goods is either appropriate or welcome? I mean, I’m a librarian, I’m happy to talk books to anyone. But honestly, my capacity for book-talking is somewhat limited when I’m distracted, and gyn. exams are a hell of a distraction for me. Not to mention the fact that I’d just as soon my doctor be concentrating on what he’s seeing on that US screen & not whatever book he’s recommending at the moment. Just sayin’…) He did a modified HSN, didn’t pressurize anything, just wanted to see if the cervix-blocking lump was really & truly gone. And it was – much to my relief. Which means this summer’s shitty events are officially over as far as I’m concerned. Thank any deity who might be listening.
But, back to the happy news, what this all really means is that I can (finally) start a new cycle in a couple of weeks. Which means we’re officially a go for a November cycle. Which means…
Strange that I’ve come to a place in my life where the prospect of daily injections and near-daily GYN exams would make me almost giddy with happiness. Strange that this seems to indicate normality for me these days.
But the idea of working toward a baby again – an actual baby – seems to be worth getting excited about.
A good day, for a change.
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…which is rather a new feeling for me. Don’t know if it’s a result of the peace that comes with formalizing my long-term relationship; or if it’s from the general feeling of well-being that all these artificial hormones floating around in my body is inducing; or if it’s simply the joy of having a good dog around the house – (the city is much more livable with a dog, oddly enough, or maybe I’m just better able to cope with the stress). Or maybe it’s all three. Or perhaps just the relative comfort of having a body that’s not in utter rebellion for a change.
Because I’m also feeling optimistic about this upcoming cycle. I’m certainly feeling more relaxed since I made the decision that this will be my last IVF using my own eggs. If it doesn’t work this time, I’m ready to move on to donor eggs, whereupon my chances of carrying a successful pregnancy to term go up to something like 70% at my clinic. And the age-factor isn’t nearly as important. So some of the pressure is off me & my recalcitrant ovaries to “perform”.
One of my younger co-workers – a fellow I’m friendly with but not close to – told me yesterday in conversation that I was looking great these days. Which was nice to hear, not because I’m particularly vain, but because I interpreted it to mean that I’m looking more like myself again. Between the time that my imminent miscarriage was diagnosed in early July and right up until the end of August, I felt (and looked) like death – the combination of anemia and the bone-crushing depression that I had such a hard time crawling out from under did a number on me: for those two months there was no color in my normally rosy face, and I had no energy to spare for smiling or doing much of anything besides staring dully and making black-as-death, inappropriately snarky comments. So yesterday, it made me feel good to know that I’m back to normal as far as the general public knows.
July feels like it was so long ago – much further in the past than the few weeks of giddy happiness that I was able to experience in May & June. And I want that again. And it feels more possible now that the rest of my life is evening out and nothing feels quite so dire anymore.
I go in to my clinic tomorrow for an HSN to make sure that everything’s healing and back to normal on my insides, and assuming that it is (there’s that optimism again!) I’ll probably get my prescriptions filed & we’ll come up with a start date for the patches, as well.
And I’m looking forward to moving toward this goal again. Looking forward to cutting off my coffee and alcohol habit, even, since I’ll have such a good reason for doing so. Looking forward to my second chance.
Here’s to second (and third and fourth and fifth) chances.
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