I'm grumpy. I woke up grumpy. I'm grumpy because my dreams are filled with anxiety. Anxiety is manifesting itself in my dreams in a way that I can't remember once I wake, but it leaves me with residual grumpiness that isn't much fun. In reality, I'm terrified.
Last time, I bled on the 11th day after retrieval. The equivalent day this time would be Friday of this week. I've been having vague cramping since Monday. I know that this can be the progesterone, and I know that it can be the uterus stretching, or the ovaries shrinking back to normal size, or just my peritoneal cavity having a party, but it makes me think of last time. Of how I felt on that Monday evening, feeling cramps and just knowing that the cycle was over. This has been compounded this morning by relief from my post-transfer constipation. Yes I've been eating lots of fibre and drinking lots of water, but the same thing happened around the same time last time. So suffice it to say, I am not feeling optimistic. I'm trying to send warm loving thoughts to those embryos, but then I think, well, they're probably dead by now anyway, so what's the point. I suck at all that visualisation stuff, anyway, my brain always moves onto something else quickly, it's hard for me to keep it still.
I did something stupid this week which didn't help the grumpiness. Ages ago I said yes when asked to sit on a panel of senior women for an internal conference. This Monday was the conference. As each woman introduced herself, she said: I'm X, I have three children, who are 9, 7, and 4, I work in blank, I've been on a part time programme since Y, and am delighted to be here. I was the only one on the panel with no children. Having children and working was not the official topic of the panel, but it certainly felt that way. It didn't end with the introductions, either. People talked about their maternity leave, and how progression through the company felt different when you've got a child, and blah and blah and blahdiblah. It was awful. At the end the audience said thank you so much for coming, and we all got a bottle of champagne, and then I went back to my office and cried.
It's just so hard not being able to do anything to help this to work. It's up to my body and those embryos to figure out if they are a good fit. And there's nothing I can do about it. There isn't a single minute of the day (or night, apparently) when I don't think about it. But it isn't up to me. I wasn't going to type that I just want to get through to the blood test without bleeding, because I did that last time and it didn't work. But I do. I want to get through to that blood test and out the other side. But what I want has nothing to do with it.