Yesterday one of my staff told me she is 8 weeks pregnant. I tuned out after she told me she was pregnant, but came back long enough to do the professional thing and say congratulations. What I really wanted to tell her was that she was a bitch cow and who the hell tells people they are pregnant when they are only 8 weeks! I know….the anger surprised me too.
I drove home in tears, shocked that I could allow the bitch cow to have this effect on me. When I walked in the door I melted on the floor and poor DH didn’t know what hit him. It took me a few minutes between ridiculous sobbing to tell him that everything was fine, nothing was wrong…I was just having a moment.
I guess I have only just now grieved for the last failed cycle. I didn’t even bat an eye when we saw it was negative. Disappointed, yes…but sad….not really. Until yesterday, I completely unravelled. I have been in one hell of a bad mood and I should have known this was coming. Pissy, moody, angry = Extreme sadness welling up and impending implosion.
So it’s out now. Obviously my staff is not a bitch cow. I am just a depressed infertile. It is so hard, I have just accepted my dream job (which I start in November if I can grow the balls to tell my boss!) and I graduate from my Masters programme with distinction on Friday. I also have an amazing DH, the best relationship and so much love from him that I sometimes pinch myself that I am this lucky.
You try to rationalize that your life is so good in so many other ways…but all you really want is to be pregnant. Yo…I am tired. I want to believe it will happen, but some days I am not so sure.
Hugs to all my IF gals. This sucks the motherload.