The day after yesterday

I'm not gonna lie - I threw myself a pretty hefty pity party on the drive home yesterday. J and I were in separate cars (which sucked), but I had a good 4 hours to cry it all out, talk out loud to myself (yes, I do that a lot), and generally gut myself of the gunk. No doubt everyone who passed me on the interstate hit the accelerater a little harder for fear I'd run them off the road.

It was a good detoxing drive. I saw a documentary once on post traumic stress syndrome comparing modern day soldiers and soldiers from WWI. How soldiers from WWI assimilated back into everyday life much easier than they do today. The reason: WWI military were sent back to the U.S. on huge cargo ships carrying hundreds or thousands of other troops who had just experienced the same traumatic experiences. They sometimes had weeks on these ships before reaching home - sitting around talking it all out, bonding over awful events. By the time they made it home, they had basically spent weeks in 24-hour-a-day therapy.

That was my drive home - I got it all out. Then I got home and I got the wine out.

This morning I woke up feeling a lot better. My ass is still sore from the damn Novarel injection, but I was rested and my mind was at ease. This was a lot easier than going through a month of injections, or waiting 2 weeks for a pregnancy test wondering if the embryos lived or died.

Not that I'm 100% smiles and sunshine right now - the fear of "will this ever work" buzzes louder and louder in the back of our heads each time a cycle goes south. I spent some time yesterday flirting with the Unfairness Factor: the most obvious - my 23 year old sister-in-law pregnant with her 2nd with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth - seriously...don't get me started. Or debating The Big Karmic Screw: "What the hell did WE do so wrong...?". Or the general questions of the century: "Holy-shit-can-a-sistah-catch-a-break?" and "Will-we-ever-have-money-again?".

For the most part I'm feeling pretty even-keel. The worse sacrifice I really made was a total lack of sleep and daily pokes for blood work. Sucks that I have to do it again, but I'll live. Our energy for generating Hope-On-Demand is a bit beaten, but we always seem to pull that off at the last minute.

So...goodbye Cycle #3. Maybe it's FOUR time's a charm.