Well, at least I’ve got lots of company in the IVF camp. Now we just need some marshmallows and a campfire. And some songs. And cheesy skits. Definitely the skits. Or at least the marshmallows.*
It’s been a crazy week. I’ve spent more time than I’d like trying to get settled in my new job, and trying to focus on the writing I need to do, and working on the house, and trying to come to terms with our decision to take a month off from the baby chase.
Actually, that last one was a fairly easy decision, initially.** I have to - HAVE TO - write these papers. Now. In the next 3-4 weeks. And J has a big project in October and so won’t be available to hold my hand or even provide his manly contribution to the whole process. I wouldn’t want his stressed out sperm, anyway. Better to stall for a month.
Except that given the pain and horrendous clotting of the last period, and my historically irregular cycles (though the last couple of unmedicated cycles have turned out okay), and the need for there to be no chance in hell that we’d get pregnant (so our break is really a break and I don’t have to temp or watch what meds I take or what food I eat or what I drink) - because of all that, I’m on the pill. As a form of birth control. Hahahaha. It’s okay when I think about it as cycle timing. I mean, I’m going to be on the pill next month at the beginning of the IVF, too. But it’s still bizarre. I had to psych myself up for the first pill. I think that was the final moment of acceptance. We’re really doing this IVF. We’re really not going to get pregnant on our own. I’m really not going to be an urban legend.
And in the meantime, I really have to buckle down and write these papers, and start being productive in my new job. I promise I will write about choosing a clinic soon. Really. But I have to spend at least 30 minutes writing my papers, first.
*Actually, at my camp, the campfire would have been more likely to be accompanied by some people streaking than by cheesy skits. Though we had those, too, sometimes. And our semi-official camp songs often contained repeated shouted profanities. I guess you could say I went to an interesting camp.
**I lied. It wasn't easy. But I'm trying to come to terms with it, because I know it was the right decision, even if it was a hard one to make.