I hate to say this. I really do. It pains me to put this out there. I'm gonna say it anyway.
This is too easy.
I know, I know. I know. But, I don't feel like I'm doing anything. Two pills in the morning. Estrogen patch. One tiny little Lupron shot a day. Repeat. With the fresh IVF, it was: shot in the morning, shot at night, estrogen patch, estrogen pills, monitoring every couple of days, please, please let me have some decent follicles, blood work, introduce third shot, progesterone, antibiotics, more progesterone, no exercise, more bloodwork, please let those little eggs divide and conquer, one final big shot in the ass.
I haven't even gone for my first ultrasound yet. I feel...fine. Normal. Dear God, I have no complaints. This is no way to live.
It's just there was so much activity for my IVF in November. I had responsibilities. I had things to do and get right. I had milestones. As agonizing as it was to have to wait to see if my follicles were developing or if I was overstimulating or understimulating, I was involved in the process. I was cheering them on. Go, follicles, go! I blushed with pride the bigger they got. And, ok, it didn't work out.
Which, I guess, gets me back to here.
You're damned if you do and damned if you don't with infertility. You have no control over the outcome. I can do everything right, at the right time, with the right attitude and yet have no control over the outcome. Infuriating. I can choose what I eat for dinner and if I drink too much red wine. I can choose not to buy those really expensive shoes that will match exactly one outfit I own (bought 'em). But I can't choose when or if to have a baby. And that really pisses me off.