And so it goes

So I have a day every month, right around when I ovulate, that I feel really out of sorts. Most of the time, I am calm, collected, pragmatic Jen. I am the one my friends come to for advice or help. I like this Jen. I like her very much. Now it would be a lie to say I don’t have my odd day of PMS or hunger anger, that anger when you don’t realize how bad you need a sandwich. But generally, I am pretty even tempered. Except one day each month. Emotional Jen wants to stay in bed, eat all the chocolate and Cheetos in the world, watch sappy movies and wonder why Matthew Goode or Tom Hiddleston isn’t whisking her off to some idyllic scene. That is about the time pragmatic Jen taps her on the shoulder and tells her to get it together. I am thankful for that tap on the shoulder. It brings me back to reality. Knowing there is an end in sight and that this is only temporary helps.

Ovulating, though, opens up a whole other can of worms. It is a brutal reminder of the fault in my biology. I know I ovulate. I have peed on sticks monthly, had blood tests and ultrasounds. I feel it as well. Day 14 pretty much every cycle. It is sad and frustrating to know that this is happening and that nothing will ever come of it. My eggs, whatever their quality, float around in my pelvic cavity until they are reabsorbed. They are just a reminder of failure. And while I understand it is not a short coming on my part, it is on the part of my body. After my initial diagnosis, sex was also a reminder of my short coming. But my patient and loving husband supported me and whatever I needed. Now I feel stronger about our life together. I remember crying my eyes out on the phone after I found out. He rushed home from work and told me no matter what he would take care of me and he would figure this out, whatever it took.

Whenever emotional Jen shows up, I like about that or one of the other amazing things that has happen in our 13 years together. I have seen the world and laughed way more than is fair because of him and I am only 31. I  wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone else. Our donor starts her IVF cycle next week. I hope it works out in the end. An uncontrollable smile crossing my face every time I think of how good of a father my husband will be. Nothing makes me happier.


2 thoughts on “And so it goes

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