Here I sit 11 DPO with a couple of BFNs in the bathroom trash. I don’t know why I torture myself like this. Something about the early negatives makes me feel like the ACTUAL negative will be easier to digest somehow. Since it will likely be the middle of the work day when they call me with the results of Monday’s blood test, I feel like I have a better chance of keeping my shit together if I’m already well versed in BFNs.
I gave myself a pep talk this morning. Actually, I was talking to one of the dogs. (What’s worse—talking to yourself or talking to your dog?)
The conversation went something like this:
Me: Who CARES if all those crazy women on the Fertility Friend boards are getting BFPs at 10/11 DPO. It’s still early. Anything can happen.
Enough about testing, though. Monday will be here soon enough, and we can have a fresh start. Let’s talk about Progesterone.
I HATE PROGESTERONE.
If you look at Web MD’s list of possible side effects, I have experienced a significant chunk of them:
Changes in Appetite
Acne (I am breaking out like a fucking teenager)
Drowsiness or Insomnia (HOW ABOUT BOTH?! Simultaneously!)
Fuck you, Progesterone. We are not friends.
I haven’t been sleeping well, and it’s having a domino effect on the rest of my life. I also haven’t been exercising like I should be, and haven’t been eating very well. I feel like if I could just get ONE of these issues under control, the others would fall into place. I’m hoping the weekend will help. Getting away from the added stress of work for a few days might do some good.
We are planning to spend tomorrow poolside. An umbrella, a book, and some SPF 1,000,000 (REDHEAD!) sound just about perfect. And maybe some sparkling water with strawberries & fresh basil.
I have my eye on you, Monday. Please be kind.