I’ve stayed away from WordPress all weekend, which is sort of unusual for me. Even if I don’t post I typically read during the weekend. I’m pretty active with my blog and I make no apologies for this. I like to write what I’m feeling and if folks want to read it-then great. I love having the support and the camaraderie.
I’ve never really found myself in the “having a hard time being happy for others club”-at least not within our community. But for some reason I find myself there these past few days. Friday hit me harder than I thought it would. Maybe because my CD 3 appt looked so good-no cysts, happy uterus, no problems we could see. And then I began suffering through metformin thinking that it was for the greater good-that I would have an awesome monitoring appt on Friday.Forcing myself to take it and be really sick, all for the end goal of a good follicle, a healthy pregnancy, and a take home baby.
And then I got nothing. Diddly Squat. Nada. Bupkiss.
And once again I just felt so effing cheated. The one thing I felt like I could rely on was a good reaction to stims, specifically letrozole-I’ve ALWAYS had a good reaction to letrozole. The only time I didn’t was my first cycle post surgery at 2.5 mg, but that was to be expected. This time? I never saw this coming. And I feel like now, taking 7.5 mg a day and going back on Friday is just a bandaid to keep me happy for a week. I don’t think it’s going to work. I don’t feel much happening. I’m not happy.
Am I taking the pills? Oh yes, of course I am. But I have no confidence in them, for the first time.
So right now I’m having a hard time being here, even though it’s one of my favorite places. I’m just having a hard time celebrating other successes, when all I can see are my own shortcomings.
That being said, I still managed to have a pretty good weekend. I seem to have gotten used to Metformin. The last few days have been much better with only a few incidences. I think I’ve learned how to eat and take my pills in a way that won’t make me want to die. My dad and sister really frustrated me this weekend, but that’s for another post. I felt well enough that my libido finally came back-and non baby making sexy time with Chief always makes me feel better. It reminds me that we are more than this humongous, all-encompassing, shitty, terrible problem.
And I watched Harry Potter on TV all weekend, so that helped too. I’ll be around.