Friday, July 15, 2011

Sick & Tired

I'm sick. I'm tired. And I'm sick and tired of a number of things. Last night, Mr. and I threw a Harry Potter party to kill time before the midnight showing. It was supposed to start at 8. We only invited the two other couples we bought tickets to the midnight showing with and at about 7:30 I got texts from both of them saying they'd be a little late. Since all "fun" is over today, we decided to fool around a little bit.

We were just enjoying ourselves when a very loud knock sounded at the door. Panic ensued.

"Who is that?!"
"What?!"
"My life is a joke."
"Put your clothes on! I'm not getting the door."

It was my mother-in-law.

I don't even think it's possible to explain how absolutely sick of family I am. I feel like since we started this IVF cycle, that everyone who is related to us has decided that they will come up to see us and stay with us for at least 4 days a piece. I really just want to disappear. And I need my house.

Mr. and I's relationship is the most important thing right now. I really want this to be a beautiful, unified event for our marriage and most of the time it is. I just need everyone else to leave us alone for the next month! I'm going completely insane. Our "open door policy" is now very much closed.

Wish I was gutsy enough to enforce that.

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We got home last night around 3:30 am and went straight to bed. Still, 4 hours of sleep really isn't enough, especially when I'm on all sorts of medicines and hormones. This morning, Mr. woke me up and it took everything I had to get out of bed, or even just roll over. I felt nauseous and the shots hadn't even happened yet.

Mr. went downstairs to prep the shots and I got up to get ready for the day. When Mr. was ready for me, I went and laid down on the bed to get the 3 shots over with. Lu.pron was fine. Men.o.pur was terrible, as always. I hate it. I always try to keep my breathing deep and even, but Men.o.pur tends to cause me to panic. The nurse reduced my dosage yesterday from 150 to 75 of Folli.stim, but the cartridge we were using didn't have enough medicine left in it to finish the dose. Mr. was bummed and complained as he went down to get a new cartridge. I had put my hand on my sore belly from the Men.o.pur. When he came back upstairs he told me that he stabbed himself with the other needle. I asked him if he got a new needle. He said, "Of course." I ask him to re-swab my belly with alcohol because my hand has been resting on it and I don't want to get an infection.

He complained on his way back downstairs to get the new swab and whined for me to come downstairs for the last injection. All I could think about was how my belly was really sore and my head already hurt.

I was so angry I stood right up and screamed, "[MR'S FULL NAME] NO!"

I shouldn't have stood up. I got queasy and sick and laid right down again for the last injection.

I know Mr. is just as tired as I am from last night. He doesn't want to go to work either. He's exhausted and I haven't been the easiest to be around lately. I knew that, but it made me so angry that he wanted me to come downstairs. I completely lost my patience. Mr. is the best man I could ever have wished for as a husband. This is all harder than we both imagined.

Mr. asked me to say the prayer and I said, "No." (By this point, he'd already apologized quite a few times and kissed my belly as well.) I shouldn't have said no. Mr. is the sweetest, most genuine man. I am pretty rough around the edges. I hate it when that bratty side of me comes out.

Mr. prayed that my body would have the strength to make it through today. He prayed that I would know how much he loves me for being so strong and willing to do all of this for our babies. He prayed that I would be comforted today. He prayed that I would be kept safe.

After all that, I really don't think my pains are worth being angry about. He is not the enemy. I wonder why that is so hard for me to remember lately.

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