The Zombie Shuffle

Microblog_Mondays

It’s on.

I started my FET calendar on Thursday. I have been trying to get into an appropriate spirit of measured optimism, but I haven’t managed to rally any spirit at all, unless you count a powerful longing for crusty baguettes and Humboldt Fog unearthed by my super restrictive anti-inflammatory diet. Even when my last stim cycle ended in sobering defeat two Saturdays ago, with all five embryos arresting in the lab by day 6, I just sort of laid on the couch in a morose stupor and watched a Sex and the City marathon. Here’s the countdown to the outcome, which I know will announce itself on a quiet morning in my bathroom in the window of a plastic pee-stick: ‘pregnant’ or ‘not.’ Doesn’t it seem sort of anticlimactic after all this time, effort, money, and heartache? Like there should be a parade or a ticker in Times Square or something? Nope. One foot in front of the other through the rigamarole of my presently very hectic life, and no amount of worrying, wishing, talking or dragging my heels will mean a damn thing at the end when the coin settles on one side or the other.

Today, mostly, I’m just grateful for a natural peanut butter that doesn’t taste like wet sand.

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24 thoughts on “The Zombie Shuffle

  1. Sending good thoughts for this cycle. I agree with you: the end should be more than a shout or a whisper. There should be monuments erected, parades marched. At least something ritual marking the moment.

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    • It certainly feels worthy of all that. I think the thing that really gets me is how something so devastating can happen in the same inconsequential moment as one’s morning pee. And get about the same amount of attention and acknowledgement!

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  2. Wishing the best for you. That you can close one chapter and start a new one, and whatever the outcome I wish you peace. I know we deserve it after so much.

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