I don’t actually feel like writing a blog post today but for some reason I feel a strange obligation to do so. Maybe it’s because I really write these more for myself, like a journal. Maybe I’ll feel a little better when I write this all out.
I’ve snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. Everything was pretty much perfect for this IUI. Even my frame of mind: I was the Queen of Positive Thinking. DH’s sperm count was through the roof and I had one perfect, and one pretty damn close to being perfect, sized follie. But, alas, AF has arrived and despite my staring at every test, willing the line to get darker, they only got lighter and lighter with each cup of FMU.
The only real problem I had was the fact that during the time of implantation, me, my DH and our two employees had two days to move everything in our 3000 square foot warehouse 25 miles away to the warehouse my DH built on our property. It was stressful and physically exhausting. My life is pretty much always stressful and physically exhausting. I run a pretty big business. I have two great employees and my DH helps a lot, but at the end of the day, I make all the decisions and I run the company. And it’s a company that fell into my lap. Originally, I came to this company to help my SIL. Her husband passed away years ago and left the company to her. The person running the company was screwing her over royally and when she asked me to come work at the company for a little while between her firing the first person and finding a new person to run everything (she has no idea how to run a company), I of course said yes and dove right in. It was only supposed to be for a month or two. Now, two and a half years later, after investing our entire retirement to try to save the company, DH and I are owners and my SIL bailed. She had a problem with meth years ago but had been clean for five years when I started working for her. This summer with the help of her now incarcerated BF, she relapsed. It was awful. My DH and I had to take her children away from her. She had needles all over her house and hadn’t fed her children in days. She was involving them in her delusions (brought on by the intravenous meth use) and her friends called me in the middle of the night to tell me that she was in her attic pulling wires out of the walls because she was sure the FBI and police had bugged her home. Unbelievable and horrifying. On top of that, in her drug induced craziness, she sold the building our company used to occupy. We had only a few weeks to figure out where to go and how to do it.
So it’s been a little nuts. Life has been a little hectic. But lots of people’s lives are hectic and they still get knocked up, so why not me? At least that’s what I tell myself. My life isn't going to calm down any time in the near future. I have a company and 18 animals that depend on me. And I am not getting any younger, I'll be 34 in March! I don't have the time to wait for my life to be less stressful to create the ideal conditions for implantation, if that's where this one failed. Ugh. Will it ever work? I didn't finish with work in time to call the RE's office before they closed today so I don't think we will even be able to get in for my CD3 u/s. But I think I am ok with that. Maybe I just need a break for a cycle. A break that I have chosen. No temping, no opking. Just a break. Maybe.