- Valentine's Day marks 90 days at my new company. March 1st is the first day on my new company's insurance plan. Last week my insurance card came in the mail. It's amazing how one little piece of plastic can almost erase 3 month's worth of frustration, stress and exhaustion ( I drive 100 miles/day for work; need I say more)?
- Speaking of, the new job sucks. Not just because I have such a horrendous commute. Not just because I spend over $400/month in gas and tolls for the privilege of said nightmare. Not just because I am over-qualified for this job and I took a step down and a pay cut for it. Not just because I wake up at the ass crack of dawn 5 days a week and get home long after the sun has gone down (I don't want to know what my Vitamin D level is). Not just because I haven't had a full, outside the office lunch break since I started. Not just because I'm micromanaged. But put all of these together and what do you get? One pretty shitty job. But ask me what I wouldn't do for $30k in insurance money.
- Our consultation with the potential new RE is March 5! I am excited. This is the first time ever I have been excited about an RE appointment. I am ready for IVF 2nd edition.
- I am starting acupuncture. Several women in my support group recommended a "modern" acupuncturist in the area that specializes in infertility and reproductive issues. I met with her yesterday and I got a really good vibe from her. She asked all the right questions and definitely seemed to understand and have a direction for what type of treatment I need. I'll do acupuncture over the next couple months while gearing up for our next cycle (to hopefully happen in May). I'll write more about the experience as I get into it. My first treatment will be the 23rd. Should be interesting...
- My HRT is working out. The estrogen has eliminated all my premenopausal symptoms. I cry a little easier now though. Ok, a lot easier. Those that know me well laugh at my newly developed sensitivity, as it's not exactly characteristic of me. But it just means I never get dry eye. I started off on progesterone tablets the first 3 months but moved on to supp's when the pills didn't quite get the job done. Supp's for two weeks every month, and progesterone at that (can you say tiredcrankyirritablesugarcravingbloatedbitchy), isn't exactly ideal, but I'll do what I gotta do to get some Flow action in my life. And I'm not talking Rida.
So here we are assaulted with chocolates, roses, arrows, hearts, red and pink at every turn, another February 14 upon us. What will I buy him this year? What will I write in his card to convey what I feel for him? How will this Valentine's Day be different than the others?
Valentine's Day is something of an anniversary for my husband and me. He asked me to be his girlfriend on Valentine's Day 9 years ago. That was one special day for us. At that time we had known and loved each other 7 years already. We met when I was 15, he was 14. I lived in Texas, he lived in Michigan. My family spent weeks every summer in Michigan because my grandma lived there and my mom was a teacher and had summers off. One year I made a girlfriend up there, whose aunt happened to live in the same neighborhood my husband hung out in all the time. My girlfriend's mom took us to that neighborhood for a beach day one afternoon. My girlfriend and I were lounging on the beach, minding our own business, when this tall, dark, very muscular, handsome boy comes into the scene with his friend. We flirt from a distance, both of us too shy to approach the other. When it was time for us to leave, we're in the car, we pass this boy and his friend, and my girlfriend's mom says, I know those boys. They come into my store all the time. It was fate. It was meant to me. My girlfriend's mom passes my phone number along to my husband after I was back home in Texas. I come home one day after school and my sister hands me the phone and says, it's for you. It's some guy and he sounds like he's from Michigan. Be still my heart! I think that may have been the first time I ever swooned. And the rest, as they say, is history.
Fast forward 16 years and I sit with my talk, dark, muscular, still so handsome boy, only this time we're not sitting on the beach. Instead of warm sand, we're sitting in stiff pleather chairs. Instead of hearing the rhythmic lull of the waves there's the monotonous buzzing of the neon light fixtures. Instead of gazing out into a blue abyss of water blending into sky, our view consists of dozens of Annie Liebowitz style photos. There are illustrations of ovaries and uteruses in colorful bound books. There is a model in front of us to demonstrate how to self inject. There are calendars and pens branded with pharmaceutical names we are now on a first name basis with. And we are hearing without understanding. Infertile. This is not our happily ever after. Our chairs are 10 inches apart but I feel alone, my hands clasped in my lap. My husband asks the doctor questions, she answers; I sit and feel the numbness that comes with the diagnosis that will forever change our lives. The RE tells us I need the injectible gonadotropins, if we're comfortable with that step. My husband doesn't wait for me to respond. He looks over at me, takes my hand, looks back at the RE and says, we'll do whatever it takes.
That is my Valentine. I've written a lot of blog entries about this IF experience. I don't know if I've conveyed what a remarkable person that supports me in this. I don't know if I ever could. But it was then and there I knew this was just another chapter to our story. It's not a feel-good one. It's a tear-jerker. But it's terribly romantic. The boy that loved the girl enough to stay in touch over 1200 miles, only seeing her once a year, for 7 years. The boy that loved the girl enough to move 1200 miles away from the only home he'd ever known. The boy that loved the girl enough to build a life and home for her. The boy that loved the girl enough to go to the ends of the earth with her to build the family too.
This Valentine's Day is different. I not only have a lover and a best friend as my Valentine. I have a hero.