The Depths of My Neuroses

Okay, maybe not the depths because I can assure you it gets way crazier, but here's a current sample.

Remember when I went for my baseline ultrasound before we were benched for our IUI this cycle and I said I probably wouldn't be able to start the next cycle because we would be at my mother's house when we needed to be monitored?  Well, since my body sucks, my ovulation date keeps moving out farther and farther.  This month, my temperature chart has looked like a constellation of stalactites, probably from the cyst, so I'm guessing there isn't a very cushy home in there.  So between the old egg and crusty uterus, I'm pretty sure our "dating" attempts this week are a moot point.

Now, I know some of you who read this blog don't ovulate regularly and are thinking "Wait, that bitch ovulates?  Why is she already planning the next cycle?  What a downer!  Isn't she just going to hang out and wait for a BFP to see if this one takes?  Come on!  Be grateful!"  Well, ovulation is not my issue.  I appear to ovulate every stupid month.  It's either endo or shitty eggs or a combo of the two.  Or maybe my husband's sperm are allergic to my eggs, who knows.  But at this point, I feel like ovulating is a cruel joke.

Okay, back to the point.  Since my ovulation date was pushed out, it's possible... just a little bit... that if the stars align, my LP is the typical 15 days it usually is, my cyst is gone, and my RE's office is open on the Friday before and the Monday after New Years we might be able to do this thing!  It's a big laundry list, but it could happen right?

At the same time, I'm wondering if maybe there's a snowballs chance in hell that the stars aligned in a different manner and we actually made a friggin baby.  Not that I have any symptoms, it's only 3 or 4 DPO, but my husband wants sushi this weekend and that sounds fantastic to me.  Plus it's my department Christmas party Saturday.  I will REALLY need a glass of wine or 4 to get through that night.  Drink 'til it's pink?  Anybody?

On another note: WHAT IS UP WITH MY SITCOMS SUDDENLY TALKING ABOUT INFERTILITY?!?!?  Whitney?  How I Met Your Mother?  You have forsaken my nights of laughter.  I'm glad you're bringing attention to things, but poop on you for the forsakening.