my mourning period has been cut short. our apartment is upsidedown and literally separated into hundreds of boxes. boxes that were packed in an unhappy and depressed frenzy. we move tomorrow. shit. we move into an apartment mid renovation. we can only hope the bathroom is complete and functioning. we have house guests arriving the next day. oh, and the french bulldog has bad diarrhea and it is raining outside.
OFFICE (box # 1,627)
- epson printer
- xmas throw rug
- cocktail napkins
- x-ray (HSG of blocked tubes)
I anticipate hardcore unpacking anger. "where the hell are the tiffany champagne flutes from the wedding? simple. they are in the box with the bedroom lampshades, the silver birkenstocks, and the fedex envelopes." nice.
we met with dr s yesterday to talk about our/my failed IVF. she would really like for us to try again. again? really? the embryos were actually pretty decent quality but there just weren't enough of them. her plan of action is a different protocol with the addition of clomid and lupron. b and I are pretty firm on doing co-culture as well. we will find out today if that decadent procedure can be fit into their july schedule.
dr s had an interesting point of view. "this is the first "real" time ever that the two of you "tried" to get pregnant." she's right. the first time bypassing the tubal problems and addressing the sperm issues. it was the first time in history that it could have been possible. you can't throw in the towel after one sincere and honest attempt.
so let's plant some wheatgrass, find a new haven acupuncturist, and start again. new haven to nyc is a long trek. am I up for it?