Friday, April 5, 2013


I saw a picture of myself shortly after my failed IUI.  It was quite shocking to look at.  I've never seen a photograph of my face that reflected a moment and my true feelings so completely.  I had a tired, battered face and it failed miserably to hide behind a smile.

That smile looked heavy and so...difficult.

Today my doctor looked at my uterus again and she was silent for a second.  She's never silent.  Witty and wacky comments always fill the air when she's in the room.  This time she had nothing.  As I've said before, my uterus is a hot bed of fibroids.  They are all over. Sometimes, I question if I really had a myomectomy or if someone drugged me up and then pretended they performed surgery on me.

Well, the state of my uterus so concerned the doctor that she did a water ultrasound on me.  She shot water up my you-know-what and took pictures of its travels on a monitor.  She assures me that the results prove the fibroids are not intruding on the "baby cavity" of the uterus.  She says now she can sleep at night.  Good for her.  Not for me.

This thing is a total mind f*ck of epic proportions.  I'm not sure why there aren't reports of infertile women committing murder...or just losing their minds.

I begin pills on Monday to trick my body into thinking it's pregnant to prepare for transfer.  I have to go forward. I'm tired of the tears.  I'm tired of being a shell of a person.  It either works or it doesn't.  

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