So I just read this post over at Stirrup Queens about an INSANE phenomenon involving brides-to-be who decide to not only mail “save the date” cards to people who are invited to their wedding but also “don’t save the date” cards to those who aren’t invited. Ya know, just to really rub it in. CRAZY, right? I mean, seriously. Get over yourself.
Anyway, right now, I feel like the endocrinology fairies* have just sent me a “don’t save the date” card for this IVF round, delivered by Aunt Flo herself (more bluntly: I got my period). Now, part of me cannot believe I’ve turned into that person who gets her period and immediately feels the need to blog about it, so Imma keep this brief.
Although it probably screws up my cycle in some way I have yet to fully determine and almost certainly negates the effects of that “uterine nicking” my doctor did to me last Friday, I’m looking on the bright side here because it means: 1) My estrogen and progesterone should start to drop; and 2) My lining will start to develop nice and fresh-like, so Mr. Blastocyst won’t arrive and be all, “This place smells weird, I’m outta here!” (cue blastocyst sliding down wall of my uterus and desperately escaping through my cervix).
I’m scheduled for another round of bloodwork and ultrasounds this coming Friday, so fingers crossed I can finally start stimming this Sunday and Get. On. With. The. Show.
The impatience is getting out of control. Does anyone have advice for dealing with this? Back-to-back manic crafting sessions are a definite possibility, as is horrible TV and unacceptable amounts of malbec, but I could do with more ideas!
*I must credit Eat Love Procreate for this amazing terminology; she uses it to refer to the nurses at her fertility clinic, and it’s just so apt.
(Greeting card up top yoinked from over here)