Today I am a lovely combination of BLUE and PISSED! I can’t seem to settle myself down to do anything. I just end up staring off into space. Bleck!Tomorrow is our first appointment with the infertility specialist. I LOATHE anything to do with the gyn (as we all do) and I don’t want to go, even a little bit. But I know if I don’t, I’ll regret it and will always wonder “what if”.
Dammit!
AND my period just started on its’ own for the first time in a decade, so that will make for an even more lovely visit.
Dammit!
AND it’s supposed to be eleventy-thousand degrees below zero tomorrow as we’re walking all over hell’s half acre through parking garages and parking lots to get to this massive medical center. Couldn’t be 60 and sunny, could it? Nooooooo!
Dammit!
I hate that insurance pays for Viagra for men but doesn’t cover infertility. My biggest fear is starting down this road and then having to stop because we don’t have the f***ing money to do this.
Daammit!
I am almost 39 years old. The birth defect rates for mothers my age are rising exponentially as even as we speak!
Dammit!
And what is it about someone struggling to have a baby that causes the people around them to say absolutely inappropriate and hurtful things? WHAT IS THAT?
Dammit!
And to top it all off, I can’t even eat my way through this. I’d like a large pepperoni pizza with a bag of Hershey’s Kisses as a chaser, but I can’t even have that because then I would go on a food binge of gargantuan proportions and weigh 300 pounds again and be even MORE miserable.
Dammit dammit dammit!
That does it!!!! I demand a refund!
Where do we go to get a refund on our ovaries? I might even still have the receipt for mine somewhere, perhaps in my wallet stuck behind my COMPLETELY USELESS INSURANCE CARD!
DAMMIT ALL TO HELL!
Yes, I know I’m being unreasonable.
I know I should be grateful that reproductive medicine is as far advanced as it is.
I know that it’s GOOD that my period started by itself.
I know I should be grateful that I even HAVE insurance.
I know that most of the time people who say hurtful things just aren’t thinking or don’t know what to say.
I know that pizza and Hershey’s Kisses will only make me feel worse, no matter how delicious they may be at the time.
Blah blah blah! All I have to say to all that is DAMMIT!
Well, I clearly needed to get THAT off my chest. Now I have to go and try to find that receipt.
