Hi, world. As you may remember from a previous post, I've been reading a lot lately. Getting lost in fiction has helped me endure so many trials in my life that I'm honestly surprised I'd forgotten about it in the midst of my troubles. This week I read "Eleanor and Park," a love story about misfits and how their teenage romance is so much more than just a crush--it's their anchor during their tumultuous lives at home. The novel was great. There was cussing, but that doesn't really bother me. What really spoke to me was how ugly this girl's home life was and how her budding romance helped her cope. I've been there, girlfriend. Maybe not the same circumstances (okay, definitely NOT the same), but ugly and unstable nonetheless.
Sometimes I need love to help me cope too, in my current times. My doctor's appointment on Monday wasn't great. We had one good, mature egg, but we had been hoping for two. We need as many chances as we can get at this point for successful conception, and only having one egg to work with (when we haven't figured out what the problem is, exactly) makes it tougher for us to feel like maybe this will be the month. My doctor wrote me another prescription--a stronger prescription--of clomid for next month (making me feel double bad because that made me suspect he doesn't expect us to succeed this month). So, that was lame.
Because I have "unexplained" infertility, I still really have no answers. We aren't sure why my husband's healthy sperm and my healthy eggs aren't making the connection, and doctors are just as stumped as we are. It's really frustrating and was my biggest fear about going to a specialist. All I want is answers, but no one seems to have any. Maybe my egg will be super receptive this month and will work for some reason. My uterine lining is thick (sorry if that's TMI), meaning my progesterone levels are probably higher this month, so anything could happen. I'm cautiously optimistic, as I've taught myself to be after so many months of disappointment.
My point to this post is really to say that my Josh is my rock, and I am so grateful that I'm taking this journey with him. On our way to Island Park on Monday, we talked about fears and regrets and our worries, and it helped me remember how wonderful he truly is. I am so glad that I married the best guy I ever dated. The guy who opened doors for me and just LISTENED when I needed to talk. The guy who took me on adventures and was so passionate about me that I couldn't believe it. The guy who LITERALLY ended up I the ER one night after trying to impress me when we worked out together at the gym. That one. How did stupid, 19-year-old me know that he was absolutely perfect for me? How could I have known that five years later we would still be joking and laughing in bed until the wee hours of the morning and worrying more about each other than we do for ourselves? How could I possibly have been so wise? Because with all the doubts I have about decisions I have made, I never regret jumping feet first into love with my honey. I'm so content in my knowledge that even if Josh and I never end up with children for whatever reason, I'll still be with my perfect man who makes me happier than any other man ever could. That's really what I want to say today. He's great. As we figure out what's going on with us, I am so grateful he is by my side.
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