Riding the Crazy.May 2, 2011 at 6:30 am | Posted in Crazy Talk (aka: Therapy), IVF #5: This is IT. | 18 Comments
A little over a week down.
billion million eons days to go.
Last week I felt pretty crappy. My ovaries were pretty damn sore. I had what seemed suspiciously like round ligament pains overnight for multiple nights; sharp, stabbing pain whenever I rolled over. Walking was okay, but running was out of the question.
And honestly, on both Friday and Saturday I was freaking out about the idea of being pregnant with twins.
Sunday morning I woke up feeling mostly okay, which made me angry because of course it didn’t work.
I have nothing that’s noticeably different than ANY OTHER CYCLE. Which, you know, makes sense, because I’m the equivalent of 10dpo today. I SHOULDN’T be feeling anything.
I hate this part. It makes me angry. I hate sitting here, waiting, with only my emotions to keep me company. And they’re all the FUCK over the place – one minute I’m hopeful and excited, the next angry because I can’t run, the next nostalgic over some memory of when O was an infant.
I hate the sitting STILL. I’ve spent 35 years of my life MOVING to escape feeling shitty.
So I’m making plans.
On Friday night, if I get a negative beta, I’m signing myself up to run the Miami Marathon on January 29, 2012.
I’m going to attempt a run tomorrow morning, despite the progesterone-induced sore chest and stupidly high heart rate.
I know I’m going to be angry if this doesn’t work. Truth be told, I’m angry already and I don’t know one way or another.
Seems to be my typical reaction to fear of pain – get angry at it FIRST. Before it can hurt me, I get angry and plan my way around the inevitable pain.
I’m like a big pressure cooker right now with no outlet.
I hate this.
But yesterday morning, when we were watching his favorite movie Cars, O climbed into my arms. For an hour – a full HOUR! – he sat still in my lap, and I was able to snuggle with him, kiss his bedhead, and revel in our closeness.
It’s moments like that where I feel like, okay, yeah, we’re going to be okay. I know stopping is the right choice for us.
Gawd, though, it’s hard to stare that reality in the face sometimes.
My plan is to just wait it out. No peeing on sticks. I will let my phone go to voicemail next Friday because they always ask when my follow-up appointment is, and I don’t really want to discuss the fact that I haven’t MADE a follow up appointment.
Nor do I want to explan that I have NO intention of making that follow up appointment.
This is where I’m thankful I managed to get myself a good therapist this winter. Because I know that if the crazy is too much for me, I’m going to be able to vent it all out in a safe place.
In the meantime, all I can do is just ride the crazy. And hang on by my fingertips.
Only a few more days until we have more information.