"...with every move she knew she'd won the day
because she'd survived it."
- Holly Black, The Coldest Girl in Coldtown
Came back from our amazing vacation to Belgium and Amsterdam on Sunday (about which I will certainly have a post soon), and when we landed on the tarmac and I turned on the cellular capabilities of my phone for the first time in over a week, I was greeted with a somewhat disturbing voicemail from my sister [she did not call Jeeves' phone, which is the one that was working in Europe]. She wouldn't tell me what was wrong, only that I needed to call her back as soon as I got this message. And for about a hot minute sitting on that plane as we waited to get off, I thought my dad was dead. Spoiler alert - my dad is fine. Unfortunately, the news was not good, and I really can't get into it because it's not my news to tell. And since we've been back I've been fielding two or three phone calls per day from my family about this business. It's been sucky. It was not a fun thing to come home to, and really, most days this week it has taken some willpower to keep from hailing a cab back to JFK airport and flying back to Amsterdam where I want to just sit in a canalside bar drinking beer all day and pretend that none of this crap is happening. I want to go back to that moment where everyone I love is fine and no one needs me to do anything, and I want to stay in that moment.
Part of what makes this family business difficult is that it has really upset and depressed my dad and it's pretty much my fucking primary job in life to keep his spirits up. That job has been really hard this week.
Anyway, in the shadow of that, my basal body temperature played tricks on me due to our time zone travel and even though I knew to my core that I was not pregnant, I thought, "hmmm, maaayyybeee..... maybe!!!!!" So stupid. The worst part is that I wasted a perfectly good and expensive pregnancy test that I had in the closet from my last IUI. I literally (and yes, I am using the correct form of the word here) got my period 30 seconds after I peed on that stick. Stupid stupid stupid.
So yeah, I got my period yesterday, which means a new cycle. And it was a hot, steamy day in NYC. And my cramps were pretty bad. As I walked around my neighborhood yesterday, running errands, face sweating like a champ, it seemed like every woman I saw was pregnant. Or had a baby. Or was pregnant and had a baby. It really felt like the universe was laughing at me, saying "Fuck you and your dreams, Megan. Fuck you hard." Even though I thought I'd feel great to be starting a new cycle where we could go back to the RE, I felt pretty hopeless. I kept thinking that the IUIs won't work and we'll have to move onto IVF. And then I'll be a poor responder, or all the eggs will be defective, and I'll just keep failing and failing and failing. And we won't have children, ever. Yeah, this pity party was epic, it was a real rager.
And Kate. Kate is pregnant and I am planning her baby shower and the guest list is large and even though I've thrown three other baby showers before I've never had to throw one in a different city where I don't live. I'm a little overwhelmed.
Anyway, I'm back in the stirrups again. I went in for morning monitoring and I am now the proud owner of a bunch of Clomid. Let the hot flashes begin! After my RE visit, I walked over to Bouchon and decided that I had earned a bacon cheddar chive scone. Really what I wanted was a Better Nutter, but I decided that for this cycle I am not going to drink any alcohol or caffeine and I'm going to limit my sugar intake. So far I'm not completely there with the caffeine - I'm tapering down right now, but I expect to be down to zero by Saturday. Ugh. Losing you, my beloved friend coffee, is the hardest part. So, limiting sugar means no beautiful Better Nutter (Bouchon's version of a Nutter Butter - it is divine). But the bacon cheddar chive scone was pretty great.
The long and the short of it is that this week back has kind of sucked. I am trying to be upbeat and optimistic, trying to be the tough, steady one for my family, and trying to send positive loving vibes to my ovaries so that they will do their fucking job. But it's hard. I just finished The Coldest Girl in Coldtown, which I enjoyed very much. The heroine is having a really rough day and when she explains that to another character he says to her, "We'll get you another day." Seemed like the perfect answer to me. So I keep promising myself - I'll get another day. It'll get better.