Here We Are Again
Oh, Aunt Flo. How I hate you. With all my heart. Granted, if you never visited me, I would never have any hope in hell of getting pregnant. But the past 11 months I have hated you every time you show up. You represent yet another failure.
The IUI did not work. Whether we timed it poorly, or it just didn’t succeed, I’ll never know. I’m not sure what happens next. We have now entered the big void where I have no Plan to fall back on. Sure, we can do another IUI or two. But I just don’t know. I just don’t know.
Luckily I am keeping myself busy. I have my first ever catering gig today, which I will write about later this week. I’m super busy at my regular job, too, so there is plenty to keep my mind occupied. But I had hoped beyond hope that there would be an ultimate distraction right about now, above and beyond any job-related things. And that distraction failed to materialize.
At the risk of sounding like a broken record….Why? Why the hell am I not pregnant? What is going on? My husband and I had a fairly frank talk this morning about the things he can do (the things I’ve been asking him to do for eleven months, in fact) to boost his fertility. Things like exercise and healthier eating habits, eating certain vitamins and minerals that are meant to help male infertility. Doing the best we can to increase our chances. Because really, what else can we do?
I don’t want to go on and on about this. I’ve said it all before. Right now it’s hard to be optimistic about a new cycle, because I feel like I played my trump card and still lost the game. And really, what do you do after that? If I extend this metaphor to its obvious conclusion – the next step after you lose the game seems to be to cash in your chips. But we’re not there yet. I think.