Disclaimer - Do not read on if you do not enjoy a good old "I-feel-so-sorry-for-myself Eeyore-type sob post" and do not read on if you want to be uplifted or feel positive and optimistic about infertility or life in general. But please do read on if you feel like crap and subscribe to the belief that misery enjoys company.
Like anyone, I love a good laugh! But It dawned on me recently, that my life has had a significant LACK of laughter lately. Before I started bombarding my body with strange drugs and hormones, and experiencing constant disappointments, and losing a young and amazing family member...I was a much happier person.
I was a much happier person a week ago before my Day 3 ultrasound that showed a miserable Antral Follicle count of 4 and I was much happier before yesterday's email giving me the results of my likewise miserable Day 3 blood work.
Eighty eight - E2
Seventeen point nine one - FSH
Six point nine six - LH
You are kidding me right? 17.91! A few months ago it was 14 and a year ago it was 6.
Three - is number of times after reading said email that I had to sneak off to the bathroom and have a little cry while at work and One - is the number of times that I cried myself to sleep last night. Four - is the number of times that I woke up in the middle of the night to cry a little more.
I am not in a good place.
In an attempt to prevent my spiralling mind from circling into the depths of insanity, I will try to conjure up the rational part of my brain that has been temporarily rendered inactive and remember that I am a fortunate woman who has been blessed with a wonderful life and who has many things to be thankful for.
But I'm worried...
I'm worried that the me that existed before my first IVF is pretty much non-existent now and I have no idea how to get her back. I fear she's gone forever.
|Irish Worry Stone by Selkie Crochet via Etsy|