vices

Beer and sushi for dinner last night, as the AF-preamble announced the results of the current cycle. AF will begin in earnest on Sunday or Monday, and by Wednesday I'll be poking needles into my belly every night. I'm playing soccer tomorrow with no worries about exceeding some arbitrary heart rate, and I might indulge in some caffeine and dark chocolate today just because I can.
I think I got most of the frustration and anger out of my system on Thursday when my body made it clear that our 6th IUI cycle had not succeeded. I cried on the way to work, on the way home from work, and several times in between. I let my coworkers think I just had a cold, and even my own mother didn't notice my puffy red eyes. I'll finally get the monitoring that I've wanted all along. If we don't succeed this cycle, at least there's a chance we might learn something. A little knowledge might make the failures easier to swallow, but more importantly it'll move us close to a baby. Two OI/IUI cycles, and then my insurance will cover IVF. I'm still hopeful we won't have to go that far.
My birthday is in just over a week. First, I was disappointed that our child wouldn't arrive until after I turned 40. Now, I won't even be pregnant before I turn 41. I am older than my mother was when she delivered my youngest brother.
I was wrong- the anger and frustration are still here, just beneath the surface and threatening to erupt with the slightest provocation. If not for alcohol and dark chocolate, and a concert tonight by an old college friend, I think I'd like to spend the day in bed with a book and my cat.