Monday, October 1, 2007


Sometimes I honestly worry about myself. I've had a hard time finding pleasure in life, lately. The times that I feel happy are becoming fewer and farther between. Last night I was awake from 2-5 a.m. I've been waking up occasionally to pee and I'll have this horrible feeling that I'll never be a mother and that my time, $ and body are all being wasted. I've read somewhere that that fear of becoming a mother (or maybe not becoming a mother) is a deep, emotional obstacle to becoming physically pregnant. I stress out. Last cycle, after the IUI, we had a huge argument around 12 dpo. Did I fuck things up?

I compare myself. I think, "that crackhead in jail had sperm enough to knock her up. We'll be fine." Or, "my sister took 4 years to conceive." We will able to conceive eventually, too. Or, "the other sister needed injections, IUI and had 6 follies to get pregnant." That's what I need -- more follies. "She ate poultry and eggs and got pregnant." Make myself an omelette.

I just wonder how much of it is mental and emotional. Certainly emotionally-drained women get pregnant. And teenagers who fret about getting pregnant/jumping on trampolines/getting trashed manage to get pregnant. I'm just worried about how far we'll go, how much it will cost, what my body's capable of, if I'll need a lap, if my doc is a joke. It's just consuming me.

B and I made a list last night of "fun" and "positive" things I can do with him or alone, while he's climbing (I'm not allowed to climb/run anymore). It's a good list. I guess I need to focus on doing nice things for myself and trying as much as possible to get it all out here. I admit I felt better yesterday. Like I purged. Not that I ever have purged... but it was cathartic. ;)

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