I'm in a horrible funk lately.
I think, and it always comes back to this, it's because I don't ovulate.
Being a twenty-four year old who doesn't ovulate, who stopped ovulating before I was even twenty-one, well... it's kinda depressing. I feel like I've already stumbled on menopause and I'm past my prime. I put off going to get my progesterone filled, and I put it off, hoping that maybe my stupid body can figure this all out... but it doesn't, ever. So, finally on cycle day twenty-eight, I finally went and got it filled already. I filled a few days ago, with six lovely refills on stand-by. And you know I'll need them, because my body is stupid, stupid, stupid.
And of course we have to get the "safe" kind of natural progesterone, just in case I do ovulate and don't realize it (Which, in 12 months of charting has never happened, by the way. I always know if I have ovulated or not. But what do I know of my own body, right?) And for some reason this type of progesterone is more expensive than birth control pills... what's up with that?
You know, sometimes I feel like I might as well be on birth control pills. I wouldn't ovulate either way. At least with birth control, well if I take it for four to five cycles and stop, sometimes I get a freaky post-birth control ovulation. That's how I got pregnant the first time; a freaky post-birth control cycle, in which I managed to ovulate on cycle day forty-four. But no, I keep taking the progesterone because I don't want to prevent... although my body is preventing me anyway.
Such a funk. Not trying, and my body is preventing. So I am really, just not trying even though that is not by choice.
I suppose it has given me time to relax and just exist without focusing so much on my temperature and pills and injections and doctor's appointments. Even though trying to concieve is still on my mind, it isn't quite as much right now because I know, I know, that there is nothing I can do to try right now. It's all out of my hands, completely and utterly.
I've been trying to fill the time with leisure reading, video games, movies, mild house renovation (I need to finish painting the hallway, and I need to install a new ceiling fan... I'll get around to it eventually, I swear.) But to the core of all this, I am still thinking quite often about trying to concieve, and how I can't do anything right now. So I focus on how it's out of my hands, and if it wasn't for the miracle of modern science it would remain out of my hands forever. I mean, not that long ago women in my situation wouldn't have been able to do anything at all other than leave it up to faith and go about their lives.
Yet I feel like I am back then, right now, because I can't do anything about it. The insurance company won't cover anything, they even gave me crap when I called to see what repeat loss testing was covered under our policy. While we can put back a decent amount of money each month, more than enough to cover a child, we can't put back enough to cover treatments.
Yes, we can eventually, but it takes so long. Especially given how much medicine I will have to use this time around. If I had paid for my medication last injectable cycle, I would have paid a total of $4,000. It would take us four months to save that up comfortably. And that disgusts me that we can be so well off, to be able to put that kind of money back a month, so much more than my family and friends, and yet we can't afford to get pregnant. To be able to afford a baby, but not to get pregnant, it's ridiculous.
Like I said, funk.
This quarter of school is coming to a close, two more weeks. Then I have a month off. Then, back at it for the final act before graduation. Then, the curtains will close on that chapter of my life forever.
I'm ready to graduate, but I also fear it. I've spent my last five years at that campus, it's become so important to who I am. I know most of the faculty by name, some out of affection others out of displeasure, and all the English faculty know me by name. I'm gonna miss them, but I'm very happy that I'll never have to write an essay for them again. The essay's are easy now, effortless, but I still dread them with a passion. They're tedious, and since I learned all the little tricks to appease each professor they haven't been very educational; I just write something shocking for S-, something original and outlandish for B-, something with a unique spin for Sa-, and just B.S. through everything for N-.
I think I've been at this school for too long. I'm more advanced than many of my classmates now, and this causes it's own unique challenges for me these days. Part of it is the freshman, fresh out of high school, and so immature. Even when I was a freshman I wasn't that ridiculous, but I also lived a very different life than them. I didn't want to, part of me wanted to be some carefree child whose mother and father took care of everything for, from a car to tuition and everything in between... but then I wouldn't be me. It was the trials that got me here that made me who I am. It's what made me stronger, resilient, and able to tackle real life. But then again, it's also made me bitter, depressed, and afraid of living.
But that's neither here, nor there.
Bottom line, I am in a horrible funk. My life is transitioning without me, and I am watching it fly by. In December I get to attend my commensment ceremony, a figure in black amidst a mass of figures in black. And hopefully, after that, we will be able to go forth with one last cycle. Our last hope and attempt at a biological child. While we might try later on in our lives, this is the last try for a very long time. My life next year is something I can't even make any predictions about, because Decemeber is going to be a climax; a giant hill, and I can't see over it to what's beyond. A career, a baby, a new home, adoption... or unemployment, no baby, same home, still no baby... who knows.
Only time will tell.