sigh
Why me? It’s the first thing that floats through my mind when the infertility issue becomes prevalent again, usually when I am a couple weeks from my scheduled start date and I start to feel moody and break out. It’s usually then that I know that the monthly fertility drugs have failed again and I start blaming myself and go into depressed mode. I was a bit bitchy yesterday. Today I have around 5 new blemishes. I’m sitting here looking at a calendar that marks out my cycles for the last few months and I can’t help but feel like I could cry. Even those feelings are simply indicative of pms and that doesn’t help at all. It just makes it worse.
What good is it changing things about oneself if they’re not going to make a difference? What is the point? Any idiot can get knocked up, and they often do... My mom had three kids, all her sisters and her mother had kids, my dad’s mom had a litter, all my aunts have. Why does this condition that seems to be shared genetically only affect my sister and me? I just don’t understand why. It literally doesn’t affect anybody else we’re related to. What is so different about us?
I can’t take this much longer. 2 years on hormones and water pills and giving blood and ultrasounds and frantic daily robotic sex during the weeks we may be the most fertile. All for a kid that will one day tell me that he or she hates me because I won’t let them go to the mall on a school night. What is the point?