TGIalmostF

I'm having a rough week. As you might guess. My nagging cough has bloomed into a full-on head cold. Work is a PITA. My Facebook feed is full of belly shots and birth announcements*. At least it finally stopped raining in Big City.

I went in on Tuesday for CD3 bloodwork and ultrasound. Except when I was done with the vampires, the phlebotomist told me, "OK, you're only getting blood today, no ultrasound, so you're done!" I knew it was just a clerical error, that I definitely was supposed to get an ultrasound, but I had to go back up to reception to ask to speak to a nurse to straighten it out. And...it was just too much for me. I burst into tears, and once I started I couldn't stop. All the grief I'd been holding in since Friday just came pouring out, and I sat in the waiting room trying in vain to choke back the sobs. Luckily it wasn't crowded (not that anyone would have cared--I mean, if you can't cry in the waiting room at the RE, where else CAN you cry in public?), and luckily I didn't have to wait long for a nurse--perhaps one of the receptionists hit the panic button, I don't know.

The nurse was super nice and waved off my attempts to apologize for being a runny mess: "This is a really stressful place. I know you would be happy never to see me again." That, of course, just made me cry harder, and she fetched me tissues and a glass of water and whisked me into an ultrasound room ahead of everyone else so I wouldn't have to wait outside.

(They've got a new batch of extra lovely nurses lately; when I called Monday to arrange for my CD3 scans etc., the nurse I spoke to actually said--and believe it or not, this is the first time a medical professional has said this to me--"I'm sorry you got your period. That really sucks.")

I cried through my ultrasound, which was actually fine--I have a large corpus luteum cyst on my right ovary, but bloodwork revealed it's not making any trouble hormonally so we're good to go. But I asked if I could take a week or two before starting up again, just to give myself some time to regroup emotionally, and my doctor was fine with that.

If this cycle (#7 for baby #2, if anyone is counting) doesn't work I think we'll take the rest of the summer off. I'm tired, bone tired. I'm sick of being bloated and watching what I eat and behaving as if I were pregnant without actually being pregnant. I almost cried again yesterday morning when I discovered that I couldn't even button the pants I was planning to wear to a business meeting, because I'm still such a puffy mess. (I ended up wearing some shapeless sack dress.) I'll give up bikinis and margaritas and my favorite shorts gladly, if I'm pregnant, but if I'm not, I want to enjoy this summer, dammit.

*Birth announcement today from someone who has now conceived and given birth to two children in the time since Bat Girl was born. One last week from someone who has conceived and given birth to THREE children since Bat Girl was born--I can't resent her too much, since she has three children under the age of 4, poor thing.