Everything else has gone wrong lately–my dad losing his job, Hubby’s dad in the hospital, whatever weird illness is happening with my sister, yet another rejection in Hubby’s job search–surely, this one thing has to go right.
I’m bleeding. I started bleeding three full days before taking my last BCP. Shit. That’s not good.
It’s okay. Things can be delayed if they have to be. I’d rather have a delay now than a royal fuck-up later.
I have a therapy session the night before my baseline ultrasound. Something bad always happens the night of or shortly after a therapy session. We’re screwed.
No, this is good. I didn’t even start therapy until just before transfer last time. I’ll be better equipped to deal with stress. I’ll be in a better place mentally. It’ll be fine.
We watched the movie Junebug tonight–without, of course, knowing what we were getting ourselves into. Big mistake. Just. Don’t. Do it. Ever.
I just spent $50 on enough CoQ10 to choke a horse, just to get me through the next couple of weeks. Hubby said it was a waste of money. Let’s hope he’s right.
I’ve been analyzing and over-analyzing the signs. Trying to determine how this IVF will go. How it will–how it has to be different from last time. All the while knowing I can’t predict or control a damn thing. Baseline ultrasound is Wednesday afternoon. I’m secretly hoping this will be the point at which things go awry, get delayed, or something, and that the rest of it–this one minor obstacle out of the way–will be textbook. And, of course, result in healthy pregnancy and baby.
Of course, that’s not the way it happened last time. It was one thing after another going not quite the way it was supposed to. I have to believe this time will be different, but there’s a loud, clear voice in my head asking, Why should it be?