After 11 days of being late - I have started my period. Well, kind of. I woke up this morning with the teeniest bit of spotting which has now stopped. But I've had awful cramping all day. It's not entirely abnormal for my body to stop/start at the beginning...but if I don't have some serious action by Tuesday, I'm off to the doc. I don't believe at all that I'm pregnant, but I'm starting to get really concerned that the drugs have done something to just shut my reproductive system down. I've already broken out the basal thermometer and I'm going to chart that all month just for piece of mind. I had mentioned the late issue to my nurse on Friday...and her response was "well, sometimes it takes a while for your body to readjust after IVF." God if this has screwed me up permanently I'll never forgive myself. I'm the person that eats all organic - even my milk is organic for god's sakes. The "hardest" drug I take is Tylenol and that's only if I REALLY need it. And here I am taking injections like a crack addict.
J's birthday bash went down last night. It started off really well and then went downhill quickly. Had a lovely dinner at a place downtown, caught a little bit of the band that was playing. Then decided to head down the street to a club that has pool tables. We walk into the bar and the meat-head doorman demands that we pay a cover for the two of us and the rest of our party that walked in ahead of us unaware of the cover. Only we don’t have cash. There's no ATM for a good 5 blocks, it's 2 degrees out and I'm wearing REALLY uncomfortable heels. I ask if I can go to the bar and get cash, and this guy threatens to call the police. What the…? So I end up with an argument with the idiot doorman (who lets the 10 hot-chicks-with-fake-boobs behind us in for free). He was an ass. Meanwhile it’s so loud and crowded in this place that our party doesn’t even realize we haven’t made it IN the bar. Nobody can hear their cell phones ring and the jackass door-guy won’t even let me to the bar to get their attention. So here we are on J’s birthday standing outside freezing, looking in the window at his birthday guests drinking at the bar.
However, in the midst of me being furious in the freezing ass cold, watching our friends drinking in the warm bar, and trying to keep my husband, who's twice my size, from falling down on the sidewalk, I had a marital epiphany. No matter what kind of crazy madness is going on with us, I was ready to beat down everybody in my path, all in the name of a birthday party. MY husband's birthday. It was his day, and I was willing to do anything to make sure he had a great time and anybody getting in the way of that was going to have to deal with a spoonful of hormone-raging-ME. And it just hit me: For the last 2 months, our relationship has been so screwed up over all this fertility crap. But despite that...I've still got his back and I know he's got mine - no matter what. I guess I needed something to get really worked up over to remind me of something that simple and basis. It's something I've always known about us, of course...but I can't tell you how much I needed that reminder.
So I guess in a weird way, the party was a raging success. I'm glad the weekend is over. The company has left, my husband and I are truly enjoying each other's company again (despite his hangover), and my body shows signs of working….
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