My period is knocking on the door. I was wondering yesterday why my cervix was really low… I was really starting to wonder if I didn’t ovulate when I thought I did. Today there’s spotting, a good amount of it. No wonder my stomach’s been feeling queasy this morning. It’s early again… about 9dpo, according to the OPKs.

So… I have a sore throat/cough (I pretty much have no voice left), pinkeye (doctor’s office isn’t open until tomorrow, but I’m 99% sure that’s what’s going on), hangover, and now AF coming. Someone please shoot me.

Den’s gone to the store to buy me some medication, which I am going to take and then I’m going to nap. I’m down for the count. I already let work know I won’t be in tomorrow.

I. Am. Miserable. Today has by far been the worst for this sickness thing, I’m really really hoping it starts getting better from here on out or I may start contemplating stepping in front of a truck. My entire body absolutely hates me. My eye hurts… using OTC eye drops and cold washcloth compresses until I can get into the doctor’s tomorrow. My throat doesn’t hurt so much, which is a huge THANK THE LIGHT, but it’s a tickle that makes me cough constantly. I can only take so many doses of Tylenol Cold (which does wonders for the cough, but wears off far too soon). My stomach was in upheaval all day, though I have no clue if that was due to the hangover, the virus, or what. And now I have a fever. So basically I just lay here moaning for hours. Washcloth pressed to my eye, stomach rumbling in an extremely dangerous and slightly painful way.

Despite the spotting and cramping AF ended up not showing today. I joke that she took one look at what she was entering and said “fuck this!” I say thank you thank you thank you. I’m glad that my body is considering having a more normal LP this cycle. And that it’s not piling on everything at once, because seriously, this is getting really ridiculous.

For two hours I attempted to sleep, but ended up just coughing for most of it and my eye getting more sore than usual, so I gave up on that. I’m now just sitting here propped up in bed, counting down the hours until the doctor’s office opens.

I don’t get sick often… but when I do, my body does it spectacularly.

After taking forever to fall asleep thanks to my sore throat and what felt like a fever (even Den said I felt really hot too, so it wasn’t just my imagination) I finally did manage to get a good stretch of sleep in. I woke up feeling a lot better. Not all healed up, but I sound better (I can actually speak – it’s in froggy, but at least it’s not a lot of squeaking), my eye doesn’t look as red, and while I am coughing a lot it’s because my sinuses are finally draining. What a relief! I ended up not going to the doctor, because I know there’s not much they can do for a virus, and since it was already all abating I knew he’d probably just say “drink lots of fluids and get rest.” My eye wasn’t even bugging me all that much today… yesterday’s eye drops and cold compresses seem to have taken care of the discomfort.

I pretty much have to go to work tomorrow for a few hours to do the *required* weekly stuff, and I might stick around just to keep busy. An entire day seems far too long to be awake.

To be honest I was relieved when I thought my period had started at 9dpo again. It was unexpected, early. It circumvented that entire second week of waiting, the worst week. It didn’t allow me the time to start believing that I was pregnant, to start analysing and wishing and imagining the possibilities. There I was, just trying to get through the day feeling sick as hell, and my reaction was just, “Oh not more to deal with right now.” But I was at peace with the outcome.

And then it went away. I’m left feeling sick to my stomach emotionally, running through various refrains of “what if…” I allow myself brief moments of imagining the best possible outcome, then get angry for doing that to myself. Juding from my pre-pregnancy LPs I shouldn’t expect my period until thursday or friday… which was what I was happily trucking along towards before the little AF-fakeout. Now I’m just out of patience. I’m cranky, I’m tired, and I don’t want to be hopeful. Yet I am.

I keep reminding myself that at this point I have no control on the outcome. The one thing I DO have control of, however, is how I handle it. So I’ve starting making a mental list of possibly positive things about getting a negative this cycle. Not reasons that I want it to be negative, but things that, if it were negative, I could use to soothe me from becoming too upset. I keep running them through my head, over and over. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Whatever the outcome, it’s okay.” I’m trying to return to my zen state.

::

And then this morning, when taking my dog out, I checked the mail. Before I describe this, do you remember me talking about the names we’ve picked out for our next child(ren)? Go take a look, trust me. So this morning I check the mailbox and there’s the Sharing Newsletter (from the SHARE organization). I glance at it and something jumps out at me. Take a look. I nearly dropped it.

Seriously? Seriously, life?? Are you fucking with me??

I couldn’t stand it any longer, I took a test. It was negative.

Ever since the day that I spotted I felt like I really was pregnant. I had full on cramping with the bleeding that day. My cervix was low. And then just like that it stopped and my cervix went high. I thought could it be? Really? I felt like it was all just… right. I convinced myself that it was really possible, that this was when things would change. I started thinking about how I’d tell Den, how I’d call my parents. I started patting my belly in a different way.

Tonight I just couldn’t take it anymore… I was going to hold out until tomorrow morning, 3 days after the spotting… the same point when I got the BFP with Devin. But I realized I was going to drive myself crazy and work myself up completely.

The whole way home I was thinking about it being negative and how would I feel about that? I know I want so badly to see a positive test, but how can I handle a negative? Finally I decided that it’s going to suck seeing a negative, but it’s better now than letting myself daydream anymore. So I took a test when I got home from work. I felt calm when I dipped it, but my hands were shaking. I set it on the sink to process, then tried to wash my face. I couldn’t stop looking at the test as it developed. I shoved it under a towel while I waited, then fished it out a few minutes later.

There was only one line. No “almost” lines. Clearly negative.

I felt less disappointed than I expected… more stupid because I had actually thought it was possible. I leaned forward and put a towel over my head while I breathed in. “Stupid, stupid,” I muttered. Of course I’m not pregnant. Why did I even think it was possible?

I might re-test in a couple days. Going by my pre-pregnancy cycles my period should be here on thursday or friday, so really now it’s just a waiting game.

I mean, the timing of this cycle would have been… interesting. I could go either way on it really… it might have been comforting to have the timeline follow my pregnancy with Devin. Or it might have been terrifying. I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter, because the choice wasn’t mine to make.

So we continue trying. I keep exercising and losing weight, I make an appointment with the RE, I put in an application for a job, and we just keep waiting, waiting, waiting.

Here’s the part that really gets me.

I am not upset that I am not currently pregnant right this second. I am not upset that I am not due in March. I am not even all that upset at trying again next month.

But I am freaking out because I feel like our window of opportunity is closing. Because if last cycle didn’t work, and this cycle didn’t work, it more or less says to me that natural cycles aren’t going to work. For a normal couple that would be jumping the gun considerably. But for someone who tried for over a year with no success the first time and only got pregnant through IVF? I don’t think I’m making any sort of great leaps of imagination here.

It would feel different if we could just jump into IVF when I get tired of this bullshit routine, but that’s not yet an option. I feel stupid because I haven’t even taken the steps to fix that yet, but I really was hoping I wouldn’t need to fall back on Plan B.

I want my miracle baby. I believed in my miracle baby. And I know that doesn’t count for jack shit in the real world, but I’m upset about it regardless. I want to live in a world where sex creates babies. That’s all. I just want something in this motherfucking year to go right, to be unexpectedly positive. i want a good surprize.

I feel like I did as a child, when all I wanted every year for christmas was a kitten or a puppy. I told everyone that I would give up all the other presents – every single one of the – if I could just get that one thing. I knew it was far-fetched, but I always held hope every single year that my parents would see how badly I wanted it and give me the best surprize of my life.

I was never given a puppy or a kitten as a gift. I went out, saved my money, figured out how to get one, and basically forced my parents to accept it (they were not pleased). And I was always slightly bitter about it – that no one recognized how very very badly I wanted it and how much I would treasure it. That no one thought I deserved it, or maybe what I wanted just didn’t matter enough.

Now we know we can force mother nature to yield – with a lot of effort, a lot of money, a lot of time. And maybe I should be happy with that and give up on the rest of it. But still, every night I fall asleep hoping that maybe, just maybe, I’ll wake up to a baby under the proverbial christmas tree.

Yesterday my husband looked at me while I was ranting about something-or-another and said, “Don’t crash on me.” I assured him I was not.

NOW I am.

I have run out of medication. My anti-depressants. I noticed I was running low last week, but with being sick as hell it slipped by mind. So today I pick it up and realize it is empty. And, in fact, I’m not even sure I took any yesterday. I can’t remember much of anything right now. So this is not helping with the day in general, but it is by far not the only factor.

My MIL has cancer. Did I mention that? No? Apparently this is the next shoe that life has chucked in our general direction. It is turning heel over toe directly for our foreheads, and I’m not entirely sure we have enough energy in us to duck. So far the prognosis is unknown, all we know is that it is indeed cancer. Biopsy on her lymph nodes in 2 weeks (2 weeks!!) will tell the doctors what they are dealing with and what she is facing. What we are all facing. And I would like to point out, in a giant “FUCK YOU” to the universe, that I happen to like my MIL a lot. I hear so many horror stories about mothers-in-law and all I can say is that I got very very lucky. She threw my baby shower for us. She showed up on our doorstep the day we got home from the hospital, crying. She’s putting a stone in her grandmother’s ring for Devin, because he’s their grandchild. There is so much more I could say about this woman. She raised Denis and his brother by herself for the most part, until getting re-married when they were older. I am just stunned – STUNNED – that four months after losing his son my husband is now hit with this.

So yeah, anger? I have a lot of it. And no one to direct it towards.

I have basically been restricted to bed for the past four days, and it’s getting rather draining. I’m feeling a little better but it’s so hot and humid out that I can’t even leave the bedroom without sweating to death. I’m starting to feel like the world doesn’t exist outside my bedroom and my laptop. I’m watching Lost episodes and posting on forums (which seem so very quiet, is that just me?). I’m on AF watch, which is making me break down a little more each hour.

At this point I have no clue if I even ovulated when I thought I did. (And if I did ovulate late it means we have no chance at pregnancy, because I got sick and no sex has been happening.) I keep reminding myself that if I did ovulate it still might not show up until Friday. But the wait just… sucks. In so many ways. Just waiting for the timer to run out. It makes me feel so goddamn frustrated.

I feel like I have no life. Waiting for our next chance, our next appointment, for insurance so we can start IVF. When we lost Devin I lost every sense of self that I had. I was regaining it, I was building a new me, but just now… being sick and slightly delirious… I feel like I have none. Like I don’t care. Like every good damn thing in the world is being taken away from me and I just don’t give a fuck anymore. Or I do, and I don’t want to. I want to stop feeling, I want to stop wishing and hoping, I want to stop waiting.

I hurt, in body, mind and soul. I just want to stop hurting.

I have been checking my cervix for days now for some sort of sign. The last few days, after the negative tests, I’ve just been looking desperately for AF. If I’m not pregnant, fine… just give me AF! Let me get it over with! Stop stringing me along like some two-bit boyfriend who doesn’t have any balls!

After my large freak-out this evening I just layed there for a few hours, watching Lost and thinking about my life, thinking about this cycle. Coming to terms with this. I guess I sort of had it in my head that I’d get pregnant on my second cycle. I’m not sure why exactly – I knew the first would be too much to ask, but the second now, that seemed still within the window of possibility… before my body went back to my infertile self, but not too easy either. So it’s a lot harder than I anticipated to move on to cycle 3.

I think I may be revising my original plan of four natural cycles before moving on to medicated ones. Only two cycles down and I’m already done with it, already at my emotional breaking point. In many ways it feels like we never stopped, and unmedicated cycles seem like such a step backwards. Like Den said to me tonight, we know IVF works. And that’s great, but we can’t do IVF just yet. So let’s do something else. I don’t want to sit on my hands wishing and hoping and prancing around the fire praying for a miracle. I’m ready to do something about it.

Today I would have made the call to the RE – would have, had I been able to speak. I didn’t think calling up and saying, “Aagggghhhhhh crrooaaakkkk” would really have done much good. So Den said he’d call tomorrow and make an appointment for us. Hopefully it’ll be soon. Hopefully we can get started next cycle. We have a month to try again.

I tried sleeping after making my plans, but that only ended up in a huge coughing fit. I had to get up. While I was up I checked my cervix one more time to see if anything had changed. Cervix lower, but firm. And… wait, what is that? Blood! Yes indeed, it is the flag runner for AF: she is on her way.

I feel relieved, now. Just relieved. I guess I did ovulate when I thought I did. Yet again I feel foolish for doubting my body. Things are a little off still, but it’s still functioning, apparently. Now I can stop obsessing and wondering and get on with the next cycle, get on with the appointments and the plans. Stepping out of limbo feels like a weight lifted off of my shoulders.

Oh and my first three post-partum cycles? Start dates are 5/10, 6/10, 7/10. Make of that what you will. I think I’m pretty done with signs from mother nature. She can go shove ’em.

Appointment with RE has been made. August 1… 3 weeks away. I’m hoping that gives us enough time to start next cycle with whatever it is we come up with.

I also chose to make the appointment with a different doctor than who handled our treatment last year. I have a lot of questions about our IVF cycles and why things went the way they did.

It feels good to at least have this on my calendar. I can start aiming for treatment instead of freaking out about this cycle.

Doctor appointment today to make sure nothing worse has developed, since my voice is STILL not back and it’s been a week since I first got sick. Result: nothing worse. It’s my sinuses, probably viral, and I have laryngitis from it. Fantastic. (I asked him what exactly laryngitis was, he said “irritation of the vocal chords.” Well duh, I could have told him I had that!) He gave me a script for a cough suppressant with codeine, so I could sleep, and some antibiotics just in case it’s not viral. Whatever, at this point… just whatever. I’ll take anything if it helps it go away.

I have discovered a pretty major problem, however: the “will make you drowsy, don’t take in the morning if you have to go to work” codeine stuff? DIDDLY-SQUAT. Oh for heaven’s sake, not again! Every medicine I’ve taken, over the counter or prescription, that was warned would make me drowsy has NOT done so. Sudafed? Cough medicine? Freakin’ codeine? Nada. Zip. Still awake. Apparently my body does not take hints very well. I do remember percocet made me drowsy… and very very loopy. I liked that stuff. (Had a couple pills after my laparoscopy.)

I also picked up my anti-depressant refill today, but didn’t get to take one until after work. End result: was starting to go into withdrawal. That’s always fun. My hands were trembling and I felt really… twitchy. Brain running a little fast. Thankfully it was mild and only lasted a couple hours until my dose kicked in. But the rest of my day before then? Giant disaster. It was one of those really annoying moods where I KNOW I’m being completely irrational, and yet I can’t help myself. It’s like I just can’t quite get in control of it, my moods just run off the cliff without me. I felt my head pounding in a minor freak-out when I couldn’t get a stuck door open. I came across a bush that was wilting because of weeds overtaking it and nearly burst into tears. I had many moments today where I would just see or think of something and set off the water works. That is NOT like me. I am a very emotional, passionate person, but I do not normally have a temper and weepiness like that. It was taxing.

That’s the thing with me and my meds. I’ve heard people talk about how they feel “numb” while taking SSRIs, and that’s totally not how it affects me at all. As you have all seen, I am still a very emotional person… I feel things very very deeply, good or bad. My pregnancy was so full of joy, my grief so full of sorrow. All of that while on the SSRIs. But when I’m off them it’s like something gets flicked past “normal” to “crazy.” Instead of having normal highs and lows it’s like I get a little manic-depressive with how hard I can crash. I just can’t explain it unless you’ve felt it, but it’s nasty. And that’s how I felt ALL the time before I got on the meds. I am just really thankful that they let me have normal emotions, let me stay in control. I would not be in a good spot without them.