Let me show you my No Face.

I was hoping to eventually title a post “Let me show my my O face” but sadly, looks like I didn’t ovulate. Blood tests and u/s seem to indicate a big fat nothin is happening up in my lady bits. Dr. G put it so nicely in an email to me on Thursday:

“The lab tests look no different from your old ones. In other words that “follicle” is not producing any hormones like a follicle does. It sounds as if it is an inert cyst. That does not explain all your symptoms except for the supposition that the cyst is shrinking and would have been bigger and more active hormonally if we had looked at this earlier. I would suggest we recheck your blood work in a week.”

POF, FTW.

Also, what the hell is an inert cyst? Part of me is like, well, let’s get the second round of bloodwork and an u/s done. The other part of me is tired of getting some seriously passive aggressive behavior from my boss at work who’s getting a little tired of me having near montly trips to the doctor that eat up a half day (b/c of the location of my doc and the places he sends me to for diagnostics, it’s all quite scattered far from where I work). I’m also tired of feeling like a fucking lab rat, poked and probed and prodded.

I’m bummed, big time. I’m frustrated, and I’m angry, and I’m tired of holding out false hope. Did I mention that Larry’s other really awesome job lead fell through? That would have been amazing but alas, it’s not to be. Got that news followed by that email from my doctor within just a few days of each other. (He’s still had 1 interview this past week with Company A, another one Monday at Company B, a 2nd interview for Company A on Tuesday, and a formal offer from Company C on Wednesday. I’m excited for this week for him.)

I’m just really angry and tired of all of this. What I thought was excellent news this time last week was once again, just a fleeting anomoly – just light and shadows and nothing of substance to hold onto. I was so excited to have actual TTC babymakin’ sex and then I got that email and basically didn’t want to be touched. I could be channeling this energy into looking for a donor or finding an adoption agency instead of holding out this false hope that I’m actually going to conceive with my own eggs.

I fucking hate this. I fucking hate that infertility has become my life. I fucking hate that I feel like my life is on hold, when I can so clearly see the end result that I want, but I can’t do a goddamned thing b/c something else pops up in front of me, pulling my attentions elsewhere.

I fucking hate waiting… and waiting, and waiting, and waiting- for blood tests, for ovulation, for emails back from my doctor, for finances, for things to just settle the fuck down already… I am stuck in a goddamned existential waiting room, flipping through magazines I don’t really care about and tapping my toe impatiently.

I may need to go into hibernation for a bit.