Right, so you already knew that. Sorry for the deception. I already knew that, too, but it hit me all kinds of full force this week.
My latest issue with infertility? The fact that it steals your ability to trust your body. Mind you, my body was always seven shades of fucked up. I started puberty at four years old. My immune system is destroying my joints and organs. Also, I can’t make a baby that lives more than 10 weeks. So, I’ve never found my body to be particularly trustworthy, but there were things I could count on. For instance, boobs only hurt when period is eminent or I’m pregnant. Hunger + fatigue = pregnant. But, fertility drugs take that away. All of a sudden, feelings are the result of hormones induced by pills and shots. Miscarriage adds a new level of complexity. I feel pregnant, because I was. Last week.
I’ve spent this entire week feeling pregnant while bleeding. Torturing myself about having a few drinks because “what if.” What if the second Ovidrel shot triggered a second ovulation? What if it was twins and one was lost but the other is still in place (never mind the crimson flood)? What if, what if, what if?!?!?!?!?!? It’s enough to make me want to scream. Why can’t I just listen to the doctors (because they’ve been wrong before)? Why can’t I just ignore the signs from my body (because it’s hard to ignore that feeling of “gonna puke now” in the middle of a movie theatre)? Why can’t I just be fucking normal for once?
I hate this. I’m so ready to call it quits. G so isn’t. ARGH!