Ok. I’ve taken some deep breaths. Ive hidden, felt sorry for myself, cried, whined (in my head, no use saying any of this trash out loud), not talked to anyone and now its official. I’M SICK OF MYSELF.
I did speak to my acupuncturist yesterday. His question to me was wary, “Exactly how much longer is this “hiding” going to go on?” It was just a phone call but I could literally see the raised eyebrow through the phone. OK ALREADY, I GOT IT. I’M HAVING A PITY PARTY SUE ME.
But now I have had enough thank you very much. I can’t stand it anymore. Sometimes life kicks you in the ovaries. And yeah, it hurts. No one ever said any of this was fair. So. I’m going to make an appointment with him, hope he doesn’t actually roll his eyes at me, though I couldn’t blame him if he did. I’m going to finish the last 3 tablets of Provera my RE gave me. Not all at once, over the next 3 days. I’m going to kiss that medication goodbye, give it the finger, I’m going to wait for shark week and start the circus all over again.
I’m going to go out on a limb and HOPE for a normal cycle where on day 2 or 3 there are actually follicles in either of my ovaries, and then I’m going to try to connect my head and my body with some visualizations. (which could very well be some kind of new age voodoo for all I know) I’m going to continue doing my best, and somehow, someday I will learn that it’s enough.
I’m going to keep trying, which means I’m also going to keep falling down, making mistakes and because I’m a perfectionist, I will have to learn to stop punishing myself for it. Way easier said than done. This is by far, the most humbling experience of my life. I’m normally an overachiever, and to be betrayed by my body is incredibly frustrating and upsetting. Sometimes I think this is a war of attrition. Who will get tired first, me or the bitch that is infertility?
The bitch may win in the end, but I’m not done trying.