Move Two Spaces Back

Damn. Only two mature follies after the friggin' expense and discomfort of injectables. Great. It already feels like this cycle is a complete bust and waste of my time, one that I'll be scrambling to rearrange my work schedule for next week no less. Disappointment is a way of life in the great big IF, but this familiarity never makes it easier.

Being that this is my first time on injectables, they put me on the lowest dose of Menopur possible to avoid too many follies. Well, you got your wish on that last part, NP. I was doing just fine on the Clomid, popping 3 follies, but I just had to go and 'mix things up' a bit, didn't I? I guess there's some truth in, 'don't fix what's not broken'. Of course, I myself am broken, but the protocol we had going was not. However, I got greedy, thinking, "I want 4 follies! Maybe then Mr. S's struggling few soldiers will find their way to the battlegrounds!" Poor sluggish, wandering souls have no chance when there's only two needles in the haystack. But we must do what we must do to convince ourselves (and mostly Mr. S.) that everything possible has been attempted before getting out the big guns, so at least I can check IUI #5 off the list.

Today I felt much the same way as I have in the past after a BFN. I was easily irritated, wandering around with a vice on my heart, frowning at passer-bys. After seeing this in myself (which is unusual, as I'm generally cheerful), it always gives me a new perspective on people who walk through their day looking sour. It makes me realize that there is so much in the backstory that I am not privy to. Perhaps they have just lost a child? Perhaps they have just had their house foreclosed upon? Perhaps their friend just passed away? Perhaps, like me, they are watching day-by-day, year-by-year, their dream slip through their fingers? I am not so quick to judge now-to come to the simple conclusion after being met with a scowl that I'm just standing face-to-face with an asshole. My grief has allowed me a new empathy for and understanding of other's dimensions.

Once in a great while I get a stupid email from C.lassmates.com and today was no exception. That stupid email was something about being able to post one's 'personal time-line of life's big moments' for all to see. You know, so you can compare who's a loser and who isn't. So people can show, "look at me! I'm living the American dream! College, marriage, 2.5 perfect little private-school bound kids and a promotion to senior vice-president!" First of all, f&$k you C.lassmates.com for perpetuating this juvenile competition past high school and into adult years. This is why so many people avoid class reunions to begin with. Secondly, thanks for reminding me that I am not even close to where I once dreamed I would be. I'm sure this is true for many subscribers in multiple respects, but for me, my life's big accomplishment markers were many years ago-marriage, college. Yes, I'm happy with all of that and overall, I am proud of where I am, and also, I am by no means pursuing motherhood to add another notch to my accomplishment belt, but exercises in detailing your 'life's big events', whether online or in a conversation with an old classmate are yet another reminder that the dream that I spoke of previously is still waiting in the queue and worst of all, may never be fulfilled.

I have a bit of a negative streak to me today, as you may be able to hear in my words. I'm not sure whether it's a lack of sleep, the Menopur, the disappointment, or the combination of all three that are fueling it, but I see it disappearing by the weekend. I'm meeting up with some support group IF buddies for dinner and then heading to a 49ers games with a buddy on Sunday, so I'll be back, refreshed and more willing to face this cycle next week. I'm not in the best place, but being that I can still be excited about little things, I'm certainly not in the worst place, either. Hey, that's something.