Meghan here, writing from the warm, cozy carriage of the Positivity Train I’ve been riding on. It’s a happy place-I’m still doing daily yoga and meditation, reading good books (I just finished ‘Everything I Never Told You’ by Celesta Ng and ‘The Unseen World’ by Liz Moore…looking forward to trying my first Book of the Month Club book ‘Lucky You’ by Erika Carter while I’m on vacation in Florida this week) sleeping better than I have in years and just feeling better. Things are good.
But (because my life involves infertility which is the ultimate BUT even while on the Positivity Train) I had a bit of a positivity slip-up this week. See, my period, who I affectionately refer to as my monthly monster, has decided not to visit this month. Now, this is not an entirely uncommon thing for me- between my endometriosis and the fact that I ovulate very irregularly, my cycle is always irregular. It’s normal for me to go 35-40 days between cycles, sometimes I skip entire months…I’ve just learned to be ready whenever my monthly monster does arrive. But, this month…well I need that damn monster to show up so I can start my stim cycle. The Menopur and Follistim is waiting in my fridge (anyone ever use both?! Last time I only did Follistim so this ‘aggressive’ stim cycle is certainly making me nervous, but I’m ready), I didn’t pick up any per diem work at my second job to allow for extra relaxation, one of our guest bedrooms has been transformed into the ‘IVF zone’ (syringes, alcohol swabs and my shiny new sharps container line the dresser) and my second cycle ‘injection song’ has been picked. First cycle I played Drakes ‘Take a Shot For Me’ every night while giving myself injections (I thought it was a clever play on words); this cycle I’m going with ‘My Shot’ from the musical Hamilton. I’m ready…but my monthly monster-it isn’t.
The rational part of me accepted this as normal: I’ve been working out consistently for the first time (in a long time), I’ve been eating a lot healthier and, obviously, I’m stressed about starting our second cycle…all things which make my irregular period even more irregular. BUT there’s also the irrational part of me, the part that refuses to disappear even though she is always disappointed, the part of me that thinks a late period equals a baby.
So the rational part of me spoke loudly every morning when I woke up without my monthly monster: “You’ve been running a lot lately” “You’re in a different state of mind” “You’ve been eating new foods” “You’re stressed” “You’ve been emotional” “It will happen soon” BUT the irrational part of me spoke softly all day long “Your nails are growing” “You’re craving Arnold Palmers” “You’re tired all the time” “The Gods are apologizing for 2016” “This is why you feel different”
Rational and Irrational Meghan have been arguing like this for 2 weeks now.
And then yesterday while Dan and I were out running errands I found my mind wandering…the Positivity Train took a slight detour…I found irrational Meghan visiting a place I like to call “Baby Dreamland”… In Dreamland, I sneak upstairs, pee on a stick and then surprise Dan with TWO pink lines. I show up at my parent’s house on Thursday and make a cheeky comment about preparing to be grandparents again. I raid my sister’s closet for winter maternity clothes. I create the perfect pregnancy announcements for my family members. I call my IVF center and apologize, but I won’t be seeing them for a while. The Follistim and Hamilton song will have to wait. We agree to the amniocentesis, but of course this miracle baby won’t have SMA (the Gods aren’t that cruel). Dreamland is perfect.
And then rational Meghan slaps irrational Meghan in the face and right out of Dreamland and goes to Target and buys a pregnancy test. (Correction: I buy 3 pregnancy tests…you know just to make sure). And then I sneak upstairs and for probably the 50th time in my life, pee on a stick. They say it takes 3 minutes, but my one pink line shows up in about 30 seconds. NOT PREGNANT. Rational Meghan accepts this instantly “of course it’s negative, now get back on the train…this detour was useless…choo choo.” But Irrational Me…I need a minute. I stare down at the one pink line, I yell at myself for being such an idiot, I promise myself I won’t do this ever again…and then I let it hurt. I let myself cry. I let myself feel bad about leaving Dreamland. I tell myself I’m not an irrational moron, I’m a human…a human who wants a baby.
And then I tuck the two unused pregnancy tests in the back of my bathroom drawer, for another day. I put my glasses on to cover my red-rimmed eyes. I hurry downstairs, hug my husband and enjoy a date night at one of our favorite restaurants. And today, well I woke up without my monthly monster (still), so I washed my face, drank my daily small cup of coffee, started this blog, and steered my positivity train onward…towards the Land of Two Pink Lines…choo choo