Reason #1I was excited to get my blood drawn.
Then I did and
my levels were still not as far down as they want.
(They had gone down, but not enough.)
I know I should have not gotten my hopes up.
But I thought of that after I was let down.
And I was so let down.
And so sad.
And I felt hopeless.
Like Seriously, throw me a bone.
Give me one thing good in all of this.
Something to keep me going.
To be honest, I'm getting really sick of this.
(I thought I was sick of all of this in, oh about, 2010.
But I didn't know what I was talking about.)
I know I have no other choice.
And I could have it much worse.
So I'll keep plugging away and doing all of this
because the end goal of a larger family is what I want more than anything.
This is getting old.
The constant ups and downs are taxing.
The rushing around for scheduling appointments
and giving shots
and going for blood draws
and taking pills
and making phone calls
and waiting for phone calls back
(because I cannot answer the phone with 20 eager ears listening in)
is exhausting--physically and emotionally.
And then after all the hustle and bustle
I just wait.
With my thoughts.
And, honestly, the waiting is worse than anything.
At least when I am going to doctor's appointments
and calling and injecting myself, I feel like something is getting done.
But the waiting?
I feel like my eggs are just shriveling up in me with each passing day.
And while I'm waiting, I'm thinking about the time.
And I'm calculating when my next appointments could tentatively be.
And it all seems so far away
and such a long time to wait.
And, of course, I calculated everything as soon as the nurse told me that I needed to go in for another blood draw next Wednesday.
And my heart sank.
Because that means that there is no chance to have another 2012 baby.
And 2013 seems so incredibly far away.
(That's making a huge assumption- that I will even get pregnant and that I will birth something living.)
I realized at this time, a year ago
I was completely naive.
I was pregnant,
making plans for putting together a nursery over my Spring break.
I was searching for cribs online.
Maggie's stroller had just been delivered
and Dave was testing it out by speed racing kitty throughout the house.
My heart was full
with excitement of
being a mom
and having a daughter.
I had no idea the bundle I was carrying had already passed away.
And that I had less than a week with her.
One week until my heart would feel such intense, incredible sorrow.
Sorrow that I hope to never feel again.
I'd be in my second trimester with Nugget.
Or, I'd be toting around an 8 month old.
Instead, I'm not doing either.
And all I'm doing is waiting.
And figuring out how to celebrate (that doesn't seem like the best word choice)
Maggie's first birthday.
Snooki is pregnant.
I wish her well
(If you don't know who Snooki is, consider yourself lucky.)