After wallowing all weekend, it was back to work today. Which was just what I needed to kick my own butt out of this funk.
I do better busy. Period. On my bad days, if I have time to think, my thoughts inevitably turn dark, and it’s no good for me. Even doing the work I do–spending my day with families and children, some of whom I would happily snatch up, out of the appalling conditions in which they live–is better for me than sitting at home moping.
So I look forward. Tomorrow is the hysteroscopy, one step closer to IVF. I’m somewhat anxious about it, but only to the extent that it interferes with this cycle and my typically-early ovulation. And let’s face it, if our one-shot IUI didn’t work, there’s little hope this cycle would result in a miracle pregnancy anyway. But I’m pretty sure I’m about to ovulate. And I’ve been avoiding baby-making sex because nothing terrifies me more than the thought that a miracle could happen, only to be washed away by tomorrow’s procedure, which includes a saline bath for my ute.
So we’ve been doing other…ahem…recreational activities. So far, no complaints from Hubby.
This will be a busy week. Hopefully one that gets my thinking back on track and focused on the goal ahead. I have to keep reminding myself to do that. And keep reminding myself.
In other who-knows-what-the-future-holds? news, Hubby was contacted about a job in his home country, but doesn’t have a whole lot of details at this point. No interview yet, but please keep your fingers crossed.