Please Don’t Leave Me…

Well hello ladies, hope you’ve all enjoyed your weekend (I know some of you haven’t, I read your blogs, and if you had a crappy weekend then that sucks and I’m sorry).

I miss Mr. MLACS waaaaay more than I thought I would. I’m going to try not to whine about it too much, because this is something I’m just going to have to get used to–we’re planning for him to continue this job with this schedule for at least 13 more months (gone 1/2 the month). It will really set us up financially. But in the meantime, I got a job! Yep, sure did. I will be doing clerical work (check-in, check-out) in a busy medical office. And the cool thing, is that I only work 3 days a week but it’s full time so I get benefits–the secondary insurance should cover all my co-pays (of course, I’ll have to look into that before I enroll, because if it’s crappy insurance I may be better off not enrolling). I don’t start until December though, which leaves me with a lot of time to miss Mr. MLACS in November.

So it’s just me and the cat. And I’m trying to corral my girlfriends to hang out with me–even bribing them with food if they’ll come over for dinner. It worked: I have dinner dates for Mon/Tues/Thur this week. Good thing they’ll accept food as a bribe, since Mr. MLACS doesn’t get paid until December (no paycheck for November and he didn’t work in October while waiting for his stupid HR to get his visa approved) and we are briggity-broke until the December paycheck. Oh, and we might have just squeaked by, until the IRS seized my husband’s account, saying he owed 2009 and 2010 taxes. I don’t know if what they did is even legal, but luckily my husband’s accountants are all over it and got most of it straightened out–except the IRS is haggling over $1700 and won’t release that money yet (the accountants showed them the records that Mr. MLACS paid but the IRS says they can’t find their record of it! This is SO unfair!) This is money we were counting on to pay our bills!

But what is life without some sort of drama??? And life has blessed me, because I never have to self-create my problems (don’t you hate people that have so few problems they have to conjure drama in order to have something to b*tch about? So mundane!) Well life just hands drama/problems to me, so I never have to work myself into a frenzy over nothing, oh no, there’s always something legit for me to freak out about. Always a hot potato for me to juggle. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if everything just got easy all of a sudden. Seriously, “easy” just isn’t meant for me, and I accept that. But I don’t have to like it.

You may or may not give a crap about any of the above, but I’ll include this update on my procreational efforts: I might be pregnant. Or I might not. I have no f*ing clue. I had sex EOD a week before ovulation, then 2 days in a row (day before and day of positive OPK), and then I had sex EOD until Mr. MLACS took off. And so I’m sure there were like 600 million sperm there (given that Mr. MLACS is an overachiever) and I’m confident that they met the egg–I have not doubt. But we all know, that a fertilized egg doesn’t equal a pregnancy. And really, I’m not feeling a sense of urgency to be pregnant this month, since we’re calling it a “break” cycle (unmedicated). This month, I’m actually more afraid of being pregnant–the fear of losing it, rather than the fear of disappointment from a negative HPT. Every month is different, and last month I felt the opposite (desperate for pregnancy, less concerned about RPL). I don’t bother symptom-spotting anymore since I started taking the progesterone supplements and they give me ALL the symptoms.

Also, I’m feeling quite invested in the IF/RPL community and I’m nervous that I’ll become pregnant and become irrelevant, or rather, I will only be relevant to IF’ers who are now pregnant. I promise two things if I am pregnant: 1. I will still write regularly, and it won’t just be about pregnancy and expectant mother stuff. 2. I will not talk about the magic of an ultrasound, or any unicorn and rainbows crap–I will be living in fear and guilt and I will tell you all about it. My husband will be gone half the time. I will still have to have to take 20 pills a day, including several Class B drugs (guilt, oh so much guilt). I’ll be trying to hide all of this from the doctors I work for. I’m sure people will say all sorts of belligerent sh*t to me. I won’t post ‘bump’ pics or tell you ‘baby is the size of a prune’. Promise. Please don’t leave me (if I get pregnant before you). Please, I’m begging you. And I promise I will be there for you, too, no matter what. I will celebrate your good times and I will cry (I sincerely cry when I read your sad posts) when bad things happen and I will (I do) feel as though they’re happening to me too. *sniffle* Love you guys. Mean it.