Well, last week was pants. I don’t have a more eloquent word to describe it. This is one of those cycles where I’m like ‘FFS! You aren’t playing nicely so end already.’ I was ill with cystitis again. My worst cycles include illness. After spending five days trying to battle it with acupuncture, water, NATE therapy, homeopathy and Bio Resonance, I ended up caving and taking the antibiotics over the weekend. (I should note that each therapy offered temporary relief.. it’s not that they don’t work.. I think the infection was too far gone by then.) The acupuncturist will probably scold me but when I’m faced with -do I take Chinese tea that’s ‘good for urine but bad for the womb’ or antibiotics that are pregnancy safe? – I opt for safer option .. even if I’m not pregnant. That’s what’s so ridiculous, for the second part of the cycle you suddenly start living on what ifs. It’s even crazier because I don’t know if I’m facing an anovulatary cycle or not.
On Saturday the tears finally came and Mr.Husband hugged me while I sobbed, ‘I try so hard. I’m so sorry. It’s my body disappointing us.’ I was back at square one of blaming myself. A few days before, the tears almost appeared when I was in so much pain but then I ended up laughing like a mad woman. Sometimes I think I’m not a bitter infertile but one that’s slowly losing her sanity.
I finally felt a little better today, so I threw myself into cleaning. I find scrubbing and dusting strangely therapeutic because the freshness creates a shift in energy. I’m not sleeping very well at the moment, I think I’m restless over decisions that I need to make in the next couple of months about work and this fertility journey. I’ve realised how scared I am of fertility treatments, pumping myself full of hormones and being poked and prodded. I know that if it means seeing my child, it’ll totally be worth it but I’m scared for my body. What if it makes it worse?
Tonight I’m going to write a list of tasks to get done this week and focus on them. I need to keep my head down until aunt flow turns up. I don’t know if charting my temperature is a blessing or a curse because there’s no way of fooling myself into believing a miracle is about to happen.
I’m going to watch movies, get my hair done, paint my nails, write Christmas cards, cook a tagine, plan some time with my besties, go on a date night and start looking into employment options. I’m going to focus on movement. Then when aunt flow appears, I’m going to welcome her and be thankful that I can start fresh.