Getting back on the calendar for IVF round 2 is harder than I thought, and I can't place blame on my overbooked clinic. Besides the fact that my ass is still sore from early June's progesterone shots, the memories of the whole ordeal are still lingering. Some of my fondest:
- Being home at the same exact time every day for 4 weeks
- Getting poked and prodded in my arm, belly and lady bits daily
- The sting of the Menopur
- Unbridled aggression
- General malaise
And the excuses are mounting. I'll call the doctor just as soon as I...finish this work project...change my insurance carrier...enjoy half of the summer...paint the den...see Paris. The fact is that I will not get pregnant without modern science so even trying at home is futile. Eventually I will make the call and start the whole mess again, but until I can convincingly remind myself that this is all worth (which it is), it's Sauvignon Blanc and Parliament lights for me.
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