That's code for "Same Sh!t, Different Day," an acronym I borrowed from Stephen King's movie DreamCatcher. It perfectly sums up the life of an infertile. You know, the real kind. The ones who aren't TTC'ing unless they're in a DE 2WW. The ones who don't BD unless they feel like it. It's all hurry up and wait. Initial here. Sign here. Put your legs here. No "Hail Mary OE cycle" that ends in a BFP. No spending months publicly mourning a loss in a blog and then one day writing "Monday: a line. Faint, but there."
In other words, I have nothing exciting to report.
But life goes on. I'm eating poorly (but satisfyingly and deliciously). I drink soft drinks. I drink hot tea. I take a hot bath every night. I stopped taking prenatals for awhile (but for everyone's sake still take my megadoses of folic acid). I haven't even printed out my FET calendar. I'm going by memory. Today I sent DH to the clinic to sign paperwork and pay for this cycle ($2795). On Thursday I go in for a suppression check. I know how it's going to go: everything looks great, lining is thin, no cysts. Blah blah blah. Been there, done that.
Can we please just get this over with?
So funny that this way your title...I was going to post this morning with the same thing. Slightly different topic though. You know what they say about great minds!
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