Don't Mess With Me, Period.

You know the old package of pasta or can of something that sits in the back of your pantry...outdated? Or the leftovers you totally forgot about in the back of your fridge?

Yeah that is kinda how my feelings about IF have been for awhile now....Stored in the back...festering and getting stale.

Don't get me wrong, infertility is something I live with and think about on a daily basis. It just hasn't been until now that I am getting back into the swing of things or about to begin a new cycle.

IVF #2 begins Friday. I am officially off bcps. Wahoo! I get to have another period. Yay!

I've had a period for 2 and a half weeks. So even though it was the lightest it has been today, as soon as my body is like "oh there's no more bcps" I am most likely going to get it again. Fun times. Luckily I saw pads were on sale recently and decided to stock up.

On Monday, we had our stim start. I forgot that we pay our co-pay for less than 2 minutes with the doc, an ultrasound, and blood work.

Ugh. I dislike that part BUT I can't complain too much because there are people that have to pay WAY more than we do. Despite what my hubs may say, we are VERY lucky to have this insurance and pay what little we have to.

VERY.

It hasn't quite paid off yet, but each little thing adds up.


Going back to the beginning for a sec, I feel like I used to be better at this. At blogging. At telling my story. At being humorous in these situations.

I had to reread some past  posts to fill out a health history and it got me thinking.

I am way more pessimistic now than I was in 2010. Back then everything was new and more hopeful because we were still in the beginning stages.

As time as gone by and the doctors visits have become more numerous, invasive, and sometimes downright depressing...that same hopeful spark seems to have fizzled.

I briefly saw on someone else's blog that they were saying how NOT blogging was sometimes just as therapeutic as blogging.

I completely agree.

Now that we've gone through all that we have, it does take the fight out of you a bit. And sometimes you don't want to talk about it.

Frankly, I don't want to think about it. Not in terms of how I feel or how much it sucks or how to turn it into a funny subject line.

I live it. I don't always need to put it into words. Or maybe it's just me hiding. Hiding from the world that hurts me repeatedly. Hide from the truth of the situation. Putting my feelings towards the back of the pantry only to be discovered months past its expiration date.

 It was almost a year ago that we went down this same road and it is as scary now as it was then. Sure I remember more of what happens and what to do...but it's almost harder knowing that we could be doing ALL of this for ...relatively nothing. The first time didn't work. Not much as changed since then....so...

I need to be more realistic and cautiously optimistic than pessimistic. I realize I am writing at 1:30AM and I should be in bed instead.

Sometimes hope comes at weird times though...

For instance, I had a strange dream the other night. I will tell you the short version. :)

I was going to my old childhood home. It looked wrong...like a log cabin or something. But we (myself and whomever was with me) decided to go in. As we tried to go in, we seemed to get bigger and the place seemed to get smaller. But magically I got in the house. I ended up in the upstairs level I think too. Dreams have weird physics and logistics. Anyways, I am by myself now and see all kinds of baby things. From the bouncers to the jungle gyms to clothes, etc. Then in the middle of the floor is this smiling baby with dark hair and dark eyes waiting for me. There seem to be other dolls or babies around her but they are not looking at me. She's just looking at me...expectantly. It's as if she's just been waiting there for me.

So of course, I start BAWLING my eyes out in the dream. I actually woke up (to pee) with tears in my eyes.

Hope comes at weird times. Sometimes when you need to be reminded that this is a process and yes it does kinda suck...but...

Somewhere that baby is waiting to grow inside me and then be born into this world.

Obviously this is a very upsetting struggle to go through time and time again. But for that baby, I am holding on to that hope for dear life.

It's not that I am pessimistic...it's more that I want this SO badly that I can barely allow myself to get excited or hopeful in case we are disappointed again.

Slowly my heart is realizing that this is really going to happen again...and to prepare for the journey ahead. This is just one more stepping stone. One more bridge to cross. One more hurdle.

And I've got a lot of fight.