Same Shit Different Day

I e-mailed the nurse at my RE's office to ask if I could take provera to trigger my period so that we could do another cycle before November. I had already ordered a refill, but wanted to start a line of communication anyway. She asked why I was so insistent about cycling before November. Derrr...I purchased the two cycle plan thinking we would NEVER get that far...and we were told we would loose the second cycle if it wasn't used within a year. And...NOVEMBER, which is just around the corner is one year. Happy freaking anniversary to ME!! It will be the one year anniversary of the first time I thought I was pregnant, and will commemorate two chemical pregnancies, one unsuccessful pregnancy ending with a D&C at eight weeks, one failed IVF cycle. In January, it will be out three year anniversary of trying to start a family. Wow, side tracked.... The nurse gets back to me and says she has discussed this with the woman who takes care of the finances and they have decided that they will allow me to do the second cycle whenever it's a good time for me. They don't want me to feel rushed, or do it before I'm ready. Seriously? I'm always ready, and just as much so not ready. I long for success but fear another disappointment. Isn't the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? What makes doing this any different? I feel like a psychological experiment, putting my hand in for a treat and getting a shock instead. I tried to sign up for the foster/adoption orientation for October 22nd, but didn't have the day off. I requested the time off and they didn't get back to me. So, I call and take my name off the list and told them I'd call back to put my name back on the list if I got the time. OK, no problem they said....failing to mention that the classes fill up regularly and that I should just wait and see. So, I finally get the day off and I call. Now, I have to wait until January. Great, now I have an extra Saturday off this month. Maybe I'll spend it at Disneyland.

After an infuriatingly sleepless day, I went to work with bloodshot eyes, no dinner, this terrible persistent cough which often triggers vomiting, and a chip on my shoulder. I get to work, get report, and then get the best news ever. Please read that with a hint of sarcasm. This nurse who I had trained for a short while back in March and April when I was pregnant just found out she's having a boy. A boy?? I didn't even know she was pregnant. Yes, she's four months along and her last doctor just thought she had a cyst, but the last check up showed a fully formed little baby boy. She's SO happy because she was worried that she'd have trouble because everyone around her is having trouble with infertility. REALLY??? Because infertility is contagious?? If only...then I'd take some antibiotics and have a freaking baby already. Or, better yet, maybe fertility is contageous as I hear it's spread in the water. Maybe I should hydrate more. 

And now, my chest hurts from coughing, my benadryl might kick in soon, I have to sleep before work tonight (it's my Friday) and then Tuesday I get to relax into the tattoo chair again to complete my Phoenix. Upon completion I'll post a picture. Until then, just know it's awesome and makes me feel a little bad ass. Which is a nice change of pace because pissed off and depressed is really getting rather old.