I went to the blogger that I follow's Web site today and she's feeling real blue about her latest IVF cycle not working.
I used to be one of those people who didn't get it. I didn't get women who wanted to be a bio mom so badly they would stick themselves with needles and spend a $100K+ in the quest to make it happen. Now, I'm one of those women sticking needles in my ass every night, obsessing over every twinge and paying huge fees.
As I've said before, my husband has a condition that reduces our chances of conceiving naturally to less than 1 percent.
Less. Than. One. Percent.
Add to that the fact that I am on the right side of 38, making me in medical terms "advanced maternal age," and obscuring my left ovary are three fibroids that have grown in the almost year since we started our infertility quest.
My husband is a great guy. Those of you who don't know him would love him if you did. I've seen him with the kids he teaches and tutors. He's a natural. He should be a parent. All I'm asking for is one kid. Just the one.
So despite the four tests telling me to chunk the deuce, I'm going to stay hopeful. I have two more days of hope and I plan to use them dammit.