Call me Weepy McWeeperson

Hoo boy, it's been quite a day.

In a nutshell, I'm now thinking that I won't do the IUI. More research on my part (specifically on taking Clomid when the doctor isn't monitoring you) as well as advice from friends who have been through infertility treatments has made me really question whether or not I want to trust this clinic with my reproductive health. To compound that doubt, I got a chance to talk to someone today who has done both IUI and IVF with that clinic and had only bad things to say about them.

So, it appears that my first negative impressions of the clinic may have been accurate ones.

I haven't made a final decision yet, and I've placed a call to the RE to discuss my concerns, but right now I'm leaning towards not doing the IUI and not taking the Clomid. I'm pretty upset about all of this, since I'd started to let myself hope that we would be able to do the IUI and it might (GASP!) work. Silly C, getting her hopes up.

Living with infertility has meant managing my emotions on a day-to-day basis. One day I'm happy and optimistic, and convinced that this WILL happen soon for us. The next I'm miserable and weepy and generally feel like everyone in the world is pregnant but me. And then there are the days when I'm neither optimistic nor pessimistic--my life is what it is, and I have to deal with it. I can't predict today what the next day will be like, and as someone who likes to know what the future has in store, this emotional unpredictability been frustrating and draining.

Lately I've had a lot of the good days, which has really surprised me since life in general is kind of falling apart right now. By good days I mean that I don't cry at work or glare at every pregnant woman I pass on the street. I can be around my friends who are pregnant on those good days, and even spend time on pregnancy-related websites and message boards without being a total bitch to the optimistic Cycle 1 ***BABY DUST*** ladies. I think most of the reason for this is that I have so many things to worry about at the moment (selling the condo, moving, my job, all the hoopla surrounding J's graduation) that infertility gets pushed to the back burner. While I wouldn't mind having fewer life-changing experinces all at once, I'm glad that all the craziness has distracted me from not being pregnant.

Today, however, was not a good day. I've cried at my desk twice, and didn't even shut the door. I completely ruined one of my favorite Ben Harper songs by looking up the lyrics online (I love the man, but he MUMBLES) and realizing that it perfectly describes what I expect to feel the first time I look into my baby's eyes. That alone set off a 15-minute crying jag.

I have some decisions to make. Both in terms of my treatment and in terms of my expectations for the next few months. Regardless of what I decide about the IUI, we won't do anything medical until at least this fall. Hell, we might not do much more for another year. I don't know. The bottom line is that I need to let myself be sad, but I also need to keep that spark of hope alive that I WILL be a mother someday, and I WILL NOT LET THIS BEAT ME. Those convictions are pretty much the only life raft I have to cling to, and dammnit I am not letting go.