Two week wait terror

Today was my last dose of Femara.  So far have had no side effects whatsoever.  Also got the call from a pharmacy asking for my credit card number to send me my hcg “trigger shot” that I will hopefully get to use next week.  It arrives Thursday.  That’s another $90.

Much of the last week has been spent dealing with how much I want to be able to go forward with this IUI.  Naturally I’ll be crushed if on Friday I find out that for some reason I can’t proceed – especially because of what it means (probably having to get more aggressive, also probably having to shut down for the entire summer due to timing issues).  All of this would be terrible.  However, I’m also having a secondary issue – that is I am terrified, and I mean terrified, of having to endure another two week wait to find out if the IUI worked.

I read some fellow bloggers in this situation right now and can’t believe how cool and calm they are.  I hope this can be me – I hope I can be zen about it.  I was for a short while during my first (and last) tww; the first week was ok because I knew there was no way I’d get an accurate test result.  And I had a singing trip in between which distracted me.  But as those last few days kicked in it was absolute torture, especially after the negative test at 10 dpo.  And that was just the first IUI, which I knew statistically was unlikely to work, and back when I thought it was just a numbers game and there was nothing wrong with me.  Now it’s a whole different deal.  Oh, it’s a numbers game all right, but to my pocket book!  Still I was completely blindsided by how devastated I was by the negative blood test and the horrible, crushing depression that followed (and again, this was when I thought I’d be able to try again in just a couple of weeks!  Little did I know…).  I guess that whole process really woke me up to how much I want this and how much failure is not an option.  Which is kind of scary, when it’s something you have no control over.  I used to mock people who put all their hopes on something you can’t control – like getting a prize job or winning a dance contest.  I guess now I get it – sometimes you just want something really bad and you can’t pretend you don’t.

It’s so interesting how this whole “biological clock” thing really is biological, and not mental and rational as I used to think.  I always thought you’d “decide” to have a child, because it was a good choice for you.  Now I know having a child really isn’t a good choice for anyone – none of us can afford it, are truly prepared, or are at the right time in our lives.  And yet that urge to procreate comes from somewhere so deep and primal that it can’t be denied.  It just has to happen – it just has to!  Having a kid will mean no more traveling for me, probably cutting back on lots of my activities, always worrying about money (more than I already do), and a lot of stress and sleeplessness.  And you know what?  I don’t care.  Because this just has to happen.  I have to have a little red headed mini me running around.

So I guess the only thing I can do to prepare for my next tww (if I even get to have one!) is to understand it’s brutal and give myself every luxury I can.  Wish I could sit in the hot tub; that one’s out.  But I can lie around and watch movies, I can hug the dog until her eyes pop out of her head, I can have some S’mores pop tarts.  I can watch the Metallica documentary again and revel in its message of triumph over adversity.  I can watch Mob Wives and cackle with glee at the next Drita vs. Karen “hold my baby”-style hair-pulling match.  Got to get your pleasure where you can, right?