As realistic as I tried to be about attempt #1, and even though I was still weaning off SSRI, the BFN was a let down...
There was this magical feeling of hope during the 2ww, an unbelievable anticipation and awe at what could be happening in my body. I had an acne breakout and sore breasts I may not have even noticed in an ordinary cycle!
My main detractor, who out-of-hand and thoughtlessly called my ttc-plans "just your new obsession" and "unfair to the child," said "it's probably just stress" to my pimples. Why do I still talk to him? He did help me buy my new car. Maybe that's the end of it for us though.
I have recently developed sensitivities to some of the more "dangerous" people in my life -- the ones who I seemed lucky to have at all in the depths of my social isolation. The scales seemed to drop from my eyes last night as I saw my heroin-addict "friend" JN. for the reckless narcissist she must have been all along! When I mentioned my discomfort (bumping my head, not paying attention) around JN. to my new high-quality bud MP., MP. said "I'm surprised you haven't felt this way sooner." And, I guess, so am I.
I think it's because my mind is re-orienting itself toward becoming a head-of-household protector of a small child. I am and will be much more discriminating in who comes near my home and who might threaten my/our security. This certainly rules out the deranged ex of 3 years that I cannot even explain my association with -- and, yes, it even excludes the summer-fling-love-of-my-life-answer-to-a-life's-worth-of-suffering, JG. He is, in fact, way more dangerous than the tall, broad-shouldered, handsome, jovial, puppy dog apparition I fell for.
Back to the expensive sex, it was the better part of a grand -- shot off in the quick push of a short plunger! That's it? Quick, get your hips up! Quick, get your big-O! Lie still, make sure the phone, book, drink, computer are within reach! Okay, has it been 30 minutes yet? And the mental resource calculations of wouldn't it be nice to be successful on the first try -- then I would have 5 more vials on reserve for a too-distant-to-contemplate ttc#2 -- oh the luxury of options.
It's so so so human to think one will be an exception, and perhaps my career in the world of probabilities, rather than inuring me to hope, landed me with the cavalier insider notion -- even small-probability events can happen. Why not? I admit to holding in reserve a speck of hope that the baby dust was maybe, just maybe, with me.
Ahh, so no dice... this time! I am grateful for a new cycle.