Today is the first day of my IVF calendar. Today I start crossing off the days and weeks that will lead up to stimulation, retrieval, and hopefully beyond. I have been waiting for this day for weeks, staring at the paper on the refrigerator, taking it all in, mentally preparing for the process. I have been excited. I have felt optimistic. There has been no IVF fatigue this time. This cycle has felt different.
Then this weekend happened...
It all started with Mo's bad news and then Susan's bad news, a one-two punch to the gut that stayed on my mind long after I closed my laptop.
Then Saturday Tony and I woke at six to drive to a nearby state park. We wanted to get in an early hike and beat the heat. The internet described the trail as a seven mile loop that could be shortened to a four mile hike by using a connector trail. We intended to complete the four mile hike...
Instead we hiked for four hours on poorly marked trails which were so muddy (even though we've had no rain) that I lost a shoe no less than three times. The trail led us to a stream and we could see the trail continue on the other side leaving us no choice but to wade through water up to my calves I found myself laughing and crying at the same time.
Instead of rediscovering my sense of well being in nature I came home with sore muscles, ruined shoes, two ticks, and a husband who quite possibly might never hike with me again.
Today was no better. I have spent most of the day angry for no apparent reason. I've been angry in a PMS sort of way. I've been angry in a "I just injected myself with a bunch of hormones" sort of way. I've been angry with the sort of anger that while you are snapping and snarling at your loved ones there is a little voice in the back of your mind telling you that you are being irrational. The problem is that I have yet to inject myself with anything and if this is PMS it's going to be a slow painful road to my period in two weeks.
When I was putting away groceries this afternoon I banged my head on the freezer door. Then proceeded to slam the freezer door, slam the refrigerator door and when my husband asked me what was wrong, I yelled, "I've always hated this f-ing refrigerator. The f-ing freezer door won't close when you want it to and when you want it to stay open it f-ing closes and I bang my f-ing head."
Oh...and I've been constipated and gassy all weekend too.
But on the bright side, I'm on the calendar. On to day two...