Well, it's for real. I'm trying to pack, and I can't get it together long enough to concentrate on what I need so I thought I'd blog instead. I'm bouncing between apathy and freaked out. I want to not care. I'm tired from the past 15 horrible months of failures. I'm tired of my life revolving around my ovaries. I'm tired of disappointment. I'm tired of feeling terrible. I'm tired of crying.
What's weird is I thought I'd be crazy-excited and stupid-happy, but alas...I can't even do that well. I'm scared that my eggs won't be any good. I want to not care about my eggs. I'm so freaked out about my eggs it's exhausting. I should be freaked out about the large-bore 12" needle that will be shoved up my...well, hell, beav. I could care less about that part. I just want it to be over so I know if my eggs will fertilize, how many will fertilize, and how many will actually make it to the transfer.
As with everything else in my life I wish I was a step ahead of where I actually am. I know (I mean I'm a damn counselor for goodness sakes) that I should enjoy the moment. Whoever the hell ever came up with that mantra clearly was not suffering from infertility. I'm having a hard time figuring out what about this moment I'm supposed to be enjoying.
Well, I need to get going...pray for happy eggs and sperm!
Thanks,
MK
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