So, I don’t have any good news to report, but I don’t have any bad news either. That’s staying positive, right?
I test this weekend, but I’m not working myself up, even with imagined pregnancy symptoms. I’ve been a little crampy, the way I feel when AF is about to come, even though I’m not going to start until next week. Saturday is CD 29 for me, but Clomid make my cycle a little longer.I’ve been breaking out, but again, I think that might just be my period announcement. Last night, when brushing my teeth before bed, I triggered my gag reflex and barfed in the sink. I think that was just because I was messing around with my tonsils before I started brushing my teeth, however. I didn’t even freak out about throwing up my fish oil and evening folic acid pill – I’m impressed with myself. I haven’t even peed on anything.
A colleague who knows I’m infertile and that I “lost” the baby asked me about TTC today. I told her we were, and she said, “Oh, so you’ve been having fun all summer.”
I was polite, but I did correct her.
When sex becomes a chore, it is no longer fun.
When you start resenting your husband because he’s tired or because he’s sick during “go time”, it’s not fun.
When you lose intimacy because sex becomes goal oriented, it loses intimacy.
When you have to deliver sperm samples, it is no longer fun.
When you have to have a cath inserted for an IUI with 8 doctors in a room watching, it no longer is fun.
When you have been doing this for years, it no longer becomes fun.
I know she was just trying to be positive, but it’s comments like that that remind me of the “helpful” reminders I got that I was “young” and that I could get pregnant again because I got pregnant once.