Clearly, I am a product of a digital age because I have not a single modicum of patience. It has been just under a week since they drew blood to re-test for high blood sugar/insulin/glucose levels (this time after fasting) and I feel f**king crazy. I’m trying to rationalize my bratty inability to wait with things like: how in the world can in take a week to get simple blood tests back when they do everything in house? my doctor is probably testing me (and if so, I am failing), and obsessively checking the online patient portal for an e-mail. It occurred to me a bit earlier that they might be able to see how many times a day I log in and I was really embarrassed at the idea but I’ve checked thrice since then so apparently its not actually a disincentive.
I’m still a little mystified about my period. Which is a funny thing to be mystified when I’ve been bleeding monthly for longer than I didn’t. Thursday and Friday were spotting, Saturday I got some genuine flow (side note: I really associate flow used as a noun with yoga and am weirding myself) and then Sunday just some brown spotting. And now, nothing. Since my doctor won’t respond to the e-mail asking him to decipher this, I am sticking with Saturday as day 1, making today day 4. Clomid starts tomorrow and I am genuinely nervous that my boo won’t like me by this time on Friday.
I scheduled my Day 13 follicle ultrasound for next Thursday at 8am. I get back from CA the night before and am still harboring some fear that all we’ll see on the screen is degenerated corpus luteum, although God only knows what is happening in my ladbits, and this was the best I could do. I’m crossing all of the things that we will at least get a shot this month. With the exception of the one hail-Mary at home insem in July, we haven’t tried since June. So much has changed between then and now, and I think getting a real try in my help soothe my wounded psyche. Or at least let me feel like I can stop waiting for something to happen for just one blessed minute.
For now, back to waiting.