Cycle Day 1. I am amazed at the hope I always seem to have during the two week wait. I convince myself that every cycle I am one step closer to our miracle of conceiving our child. I go over all the positives . . no blockage, DH has great sperm count, I ovulate normal without drugs (textbook 28-29 day cycles), produce lots of follicles when on meds, I don't smoke, rarely drink (not much when I do), I'm otherwise healthy (could lose a few pounds), no allergies, have tons of education now on my cycle and body, vitamins, eating better, getting sleep, relaxation and meditation up the a**, working out. . . you name it I'm working on it. Even last night when I started spotting I gave myself a pep talk:
*The time isn't right, perfection takes time. You need one more month to enjoy without morning sickness, worries of miscarriage, getting finances in better standing, one last glass of wine, losing a couple more pounds for a healthier pregnancy. Your still young, lots of women don't start IVF until 36-40. Don't worry we aren't even at the two year mark. Lots of other treatments to try, add the HCG shot on the next clomid cycle, then three cycles of IUI, then we still have IVF. It will happen*
I got up, took my advil (cramps!!), and went to work, made a trip to Walmart, went to lunch with DH, put stuff away, laid down and bawled!! I almost made it without crying my eyes out this time. Damn tears snuck up on me. Why did I think I could handle it any better this time?
Tomorrow I will pick my self up again, by the end of this week I will be thinking about trying one more month, I will ovulate, and another two week wait begins. Hope is reborn.
I know the strength is not mine.
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