Just a short time ago, I stated my belief that I was not infertile. The world decided to prove me wrong with this second polyp in just three months. Since this was to only be my third IUI round, I'm more than a little upset.
I didn't realize how upset I was until another friend announced that she had a positive pregnancy test. In spite of the fact that she has not had those results a second time, that hit me like a ton of bricks.
This week, I've been, in quick succession: depressed, sobbing, indifferent, highly anxious, crabby and then back again. My nose has that crusty feeling you get when you've had a nasty cold for a week. I didn't know that could happen in less than two days, but it can.
The dishes are piled in the sink, I haven't vacuumed in a week, and I desperately need to change my cat's litter box (I can still do that since I'm still not pregnant). Isn't it fun how everything is a reminder?
Everything is, you know. My friends talk of little else - although I can't blame them. The upstairs bedroom where we've been forced to sleep all week because our downstairs a/c unit is broken - again - is the room where our baby would/will sleep someday. The rocking chair I've already bought and I'm planning to paint is in there, along with the paint chips for "baby" colors.
Surgery to remove polyps isn't really that bad, as surgeries go. It's more the disappointment and frustration of feeling ... like I'm missing out? Like I'll never have children? Like I'm getting older everyday and I'm getting that much closer to missing my chance? Some of all of them, I suppose.