Imposter

From Ovagirl:

"So this was me, mincing, up to Mary'?s place, to have a little chat and make a couple of requests. It couldn'?t hurt, I figured. I asked for me But I asked for all of you too. I asked for the women who know the fear, the loss, the hurt, the grief, the gut tearing anger, the tears. The women who write about their pain, and the women who read about it and who recognize their own story about infertility on the screen before them. We all tell the same story, again and again, in a multitude of variations. Like snowflakes. Like popcorn kernels. Like babies. Like us. I know logically there can'?t be happy endings for every single infertility story being told on the web. But I asked anyway. For all of us."


I often feel like an imposter in these rings of people who are dealing with same crap I'm dealing with. I may have had a drug cycle like IVF'ers, but I didn't do IVF. No egg retrieval, no transfers, just needles and loving. To be honest, sometimes the loving feels a bit routine and mandatory. After all someone told us to have "intercourse." But it isn't in a cold sterile room (though a change of scenery might have livened things up LOL). Anyway, what I'm saying is that they just pump me full of drugs and send me home to my husband.

So yeah, that was pretty much my weekend. Friday they called to tell me they wanted me to take another dose of Antagon, FOUR vials of Repronex, and then on Saturday AM take 175 of Follistim and trigger Saturday evening. So essentially they gave me a giant booster of fertility drugs and then released! Actually they didn't come out until yesterday morning, and it woke me from a sound sleep. Oh the agony! I lay in bed imagining all those follicles rupturing and the little eggies traveling into my tubes being met up by the most handsome spermies they had ever seen! They danced, talked, and hopefully some of those spermies jumped right in if you know what I mean. And don't you worry, there were plenty of spermies and as long as they weren't all shy, we'll be successful. I told Erich that I'd hate for his boys to go all middle school dance on me. You know, a cafeteria with punch and balloons, his boys on one side of the room, my eggs on the other. There better have been dancing! Sheesh. :)

So now we wait. Each night I get out my crinone suppository and think, please God Please! I feel nothing. A bit of soreness but nothing terrible. I'm waiting. 8-10 days before they implant. 13 days until we find out. Please God please. If those kiddies danced, we'd have babies due just 3 days after Erich's birthday. 9 days before my birthday! Happy birthday us! Please God Please! Let me have my birthday early. I'll even make it up to you and not complain at the end. You can even make me way overdue so I'll be pregnant on my birthday. Please. I'm begging!

If the test comes back positive, I have a plan to tell Erich. I want to make it special. I'm so excited. I sit on my hands right now, willing myself to not start on that project. I don't want to jinx it. I don't want to be to hopeful. I don't want to not have hope though, that would be no good. I'm neutral. I'm ready. I'm praying. Wishing, hoping, thinking, praying. I'm not going to take tests this time. Maybe I'm supposed to learn patience. Maybe this is my lesson to learn. It didn't happen for a reason last month. This is my month. That is what I keep chanting. **whispers** This.Is.My.Month. Please God Please.