Thursday, April 23, 2009

I had a bit of a breakdown yesterday again. I had a killer headache all day and stopped to get something to drown my sorrows into -- a huge bag of Jays BBQ chips and chocolate chip cookies. After gorging on the chips - the entire bloody bag - I took a nap (turns out I didn't have everything I needed to make the cookies).

While I drifted off it dawned on me that I need help. If I was a drinker, I probably would've gotten drunk last night. If I was a pot smoker, I probably would've gotten stoned. Instead I just eat. And eat and eat and eat.

It's no wonder I'm obese.

It's nights like last night when I realize that I'm very slowly killing myself with the toxic foods I gorge on at times.

How sick is that? Really, how fucking sick is that?

There are people in much worse shape than me in this world. People with much graver lives and problems than mine... and here I am eating myself to death.

::shakes head::

I told S that maybe I need to go see an infertility therapist or something. He said, "can't we just have more sex?"

I need him to come to terms that there is a possibility that this is not going to happen for us. I really need him to acknowledge that - and I told him this last night. But he won't give in to that. Instead, he insists that he needs me not to give up hope.

::takes deep breath in::

And that's when I spilled the beans on what's been bothering me the most lately: Fear. I'm terrified of getting my hopes up again only to be crushed again like I was last July.

"Remember how positive I was last July?" I cried to S. "I had no doubts about that pregnancy and then he took it all away from me."

I cried and cried.

"I don't think I can live through that again," I whispered.

"But you can't give up all hope," he told me. And I know he's right. And I haven't given up ALL hope. But I'm a little more realistic this time around because... well... there's a reason I still haven't gotten pregnant, I believe.

Sigh.

I've been doing some research and I think my luteal phase is too short. Prior to getting pregnant it was 10 days which is right at the cusp of being long enough and not long enough. Lately, it seems it's been about 8 days. If that's the case, if the problem is that my LP is too short, I think it's fixable.

See, I still have *some* hope that I can be fixed.

I'm not a doctor though... but I'm planning to call one this afternoon.

I hate this shit. I just really hate this fucking shit.

1 comments:

chic chicago chick said...

Please call the doctor. It is incredibly scary and overwhelming but you need piece of mind. I am sorry you are down :(

 
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