Two Tears in a Bucket

A few years ago, I read the excellent book Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. There were many great, literary things about the book, but I guess despite being an English major, I'm a little lowbrow. Because the most memorable thing to me was the phrase of a sharp-tounged transvestite talking about things not going your way. Her reaction, handed down from the generations, was "Two tears in a bucket, motherf$*k it."

Yeah, crass, I know. But I'm starting to feel that way. I just had my last period before I have to start IVF #2 (#3? I don't know how you count a frozen cycle...): amazingly, almost a year to the day from IVF #1. Before it was anxiety and hope. Now, it's anxiety and dread. Dreading the needles, the stress, the craziness...and the likely disappointment. Tired of failing for the sake of failing.

Before, it was acupucture and supplements and meditation. It was days off after transfer to do nothing but obsess about getting pregnant, laying on my back. It was worrying about how many frozen I'd get, whether I'd get two kids. Ha. Not so this time. This time its red wine and working a lot and exercising as much as I can, seeing if I can not get horribly out of shape and maybe even train for a triathalon without breaking my stride with this three week break of shots and misery. This time it's feeling resigned to the misery of the few weeks, but hoping that what's on the other side is even better. Pregnancy, maybe, and maybe not. Maybe more red wine, working hard, getting in shape. I hope that in two months, when I'm actually finishing a round of treatment, what I'm saying to myself, at worst, is, "Two tears in a bucket..." Life goes on.