Chasing Eggie

As I sit here at work, I ponder why it is I can't seem to get my shit together this morning.  Maybe it's lack of motivation...maybe I'm still thinking about the cuckoo actions of my ex-brother-in-law last night (more on that later)...or maybe I'm physically going through the excruciating act of feeling every single second tick by while I wait to see if I'm pregnant this month. 
Itchy and I have been trying for the past 20 months to start a family.  We've encountered some bumps and and bruises and just plain bad luck along the way.  But now we're seeing an RE (reproductive endocrinologist)...who I affectionately refer to as Dr. Hottie.  We had our second IUI (intrauterine insemination) last Friday and will know in the next week or so if it took.  I had five mature follicles (which is a lot).  We had a long talk with Dr. Hottie about the chances of multiples.  I know it sounds crazy, but I've always...and I mean ALWAYS...felt like I was going to have twins.  Call if weird intuition, but maybe this is how it's going to happen.  Honestly, that would be my preference...have two babies and be done with all of this infertility bullshit.  I'm serious.  It's total bullshit.  For the past two weeks I've been injecting myself in my stomach.  Yes...my stomach.  Me...who's had a ridiculous and unwavering fear of needles ever since I can remember.  Then, since the IUI, I've been inserting progesterone cream in my va-jay-jay.  Lovely.  Discharge.  Lovely.  Bloating.  Lovely.  Moods.  There have been a few moments where I thought I would kill Itchy.  And it wasn't even for anything big....he let the screen door slam.  That's it...the screen door made a loud noise and I FREAKED out.  I swear to god I hope this works.  It's emotionally taxing, physically taxing and even though they're "cool" with it...sometimes it doesn't seem like my co-workers completely get why I'm late three mornings a week so I can get blood work and ultrasound monitoring done.   Sigh.  Enough of that.  I'm just going to keep putting my good luck fertility lady in my bra every morning and wait to see what happens.  I'm going to sneak peeks at the super adorable newborn onesies I have hidden in my dresser drawer and assure my inner voice that I'm NOT crazy.  I'm going to remind myself what a great mom I'm going to be.  I mean that's all I can do at this point.  Right?  Right.


Well...whatever my reasoning for being "off-task"...I feel kind of guilty.  But then I look out the window at the beautiful sunshiny day and start to daydream and the guilt magically goes away.  Babies...babies...babies.....babies.


So...enough for now.  I really should try to get something done this morning.  But I will probably be back later to vent about Sam...a.k.a. Douchebag, Crazy Asshole, or Manipulative Narcissist...among other things.  (We like to get creative.)