I got some good news last week! I ovulated, just as was planned, so I’m cleared to do my first IUI this cycle. So it’s entirely possible that a week from now, I’ll be pregnant. That whole concept is a little mind blowing and hard to believe right now.
I finished up my last dose of Clomid last night, so one more day of blurry/funny vision and I should be good to go. Thank goodness I’m done with my period – it was the heaviest, most painful period I have ever experienced. Which is par for the course based on what I’ve read about the scan I had last month (hysterosalpingogram). Some women wind up going to the ER to get the bleeding to stop – I’m no stranger to heavy periods, so that worked out to my benefit.
My breasts still ache at random, though, which I know won’t go away in the best case. I suppose I can deal with that – but I certainly look forward to not bleeding for a year or so.
They wanted to schedule my scan & IUI for this upcoming Sunday, but I pointed out that I ovulate an average of 4 days after they anticipate, so perhaps that’s too soon. I’m assuming they agreed, as they told me to wait until I get a positive OPK (since I didn’t get one last time, we’ll see how that goes…oi).
But I laid down over a thousand dollars last week to buy the sperm. Shopping online has never been quite so interesting! But I got it narrowed down and it is here.
Onto the boy…
I’m not the strongest person in the world, especially when faced with the possibility of hurting someone else. And I have been just ripping myself apart after hurting Mr. Adorkable like I did. But I seek counsel with so many people, I’ve got all these voices in my head so that I can’t hear my own.
But I lied to myself, saying that I didn’t love him. I think I missed him so much that I had to break up in order to do what I felt was right.
One area I feel very strongly, though, is that he is a friend. One of my dearest friends, and if he needs help, I can be there. After talking things over with a mutual friend, ex-military, he pointed out that Mr. Adorkable is exhibiting signs of PTSD. His hygiene, his disappearing acts – it’s all PTSD. So I’ve determined that I’m going to help him through it. Yes, I’m considering getting back together with him, but it needs to be when we’re both healthy enough.
So when he told me he was going to get a new car, I offered to go with him, as I know his anxiety has stopped him from getting one in the past.
I managed to keep my distance at first, I did. I didn’t reach for his hand, I managed to not cry, I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary.
And then he put his arm around me. We just leaned on each other for a while, waiting. I forgot how safe that made me feel, how warm he was, and how we seemed to breathe in unison.
And when his anxiety began spiraling him into worst-case scenarios, I kissed him. It was chaste, but it was me. He calmed back down. And when I left, I let him kiss me again, and again – tip my chin up so he could angle his lips across mine.
It was breathless and beautiful and wonderful. And I missed it so.
We made it clear that it doesn’t mean we’re back together – we have to talk before anything happens. But I find myself daydreaming about being with him, truly with him – engaged, married, etc. So, I’m letting myself hope.
I got home that night, and my mother was angry with me, about choices I had yet to make, about the threat of raising a baby with me being taken away from her. I’m trying not to let it get to me, trying to see past the unfairness of that; my life choices are my own, and it’s mean to make it about her.
That’s where I’m at now. I’m so exhausted, but I’m not distraught anymore, I can concentrate on my baby.
And on Friday, since I have them off, I can go see Mr. Adorkable. No one can stop me and I’m going to live my life and make sure I’m not leaving behind something and someone I truly want.