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The Connection between Twin Peaks & Trying to Conceive

At present, I’m suffering from an evil, annoying cold. It’s one of those colds when breathing out of your right nostril just for a few seconds is a treat. Your head hurts, you’re sneezing constantly, your throat is sore and you sound as nasal as Fran Dresher on helium. Bottom line – I am NOT a happy camper. In fact, I’m a pissed off congested, hormonal camper.

Also, as I mentioned in “The Uninvited Cyst”, I will find out tomorrow if the unwelcome sac of fluid has officially dissolved. I did notice some pain on my left side last night, so I’m hoping that was a sign of it vacating the premises. Either that, or the cyst has invited a friend over and they are currently throwing a house party on my left ovary.

Between this cold and the cyst, I really don’t know if I’ll be able to start the shots this week for my first IVF. This is frustrating to say the least. Come to think of it – this WHOLE thing is beyond frustrating. It’s hard not to marvel at how insanely difficult the process of trying to conceive has been for Sam & I. People who aren’t even trying to get pregnant seem to conceive by simply bumping into each other.

Please forgive my bringing up David Lynch yet again but did you ever watch the show “Twin Peaks”? I remember watching the first few episodes desperately trying to figure out who killed Laura Palmer and trying to make sense out of the log lady. Then, the episode where there’s a dream sequence and a midget is dancing rather oddly while talking backwards aired. When I saw that, I realized there would be no making sense of anything. This is exactly how I feel. For a year, I’ve tried to figure out why this was happening and the more time goes on, the more I realize that I may never know and it’s pointless to even wonder. And yes, I’m comparing my working towards getting pregnant to a dancing midget talking backwards.

The question is how do you get through all of it? How do you keep having a sense of humor? I ask this often and the answer is always the same, “What other choice do I have?”

As I write this, it’s raining, my ceiling is leaking, I have a cold, I may still have a road-block of a cyst, I can’t seem to get pregnant, I’m worried about money, I’m worried about the future, I don’t know when in the holy hell I’ll be able to start my first IVF (which isn’t going to be much of a picnic) and I don’t know for sure if anything will work out. That’s the reality and I have only two choices: Be depressed by it or laugh at it. Ultimately, I’d MUCH rather laugh at it.

So, as I grab a bucket, a Kleenex and take time to visualize the cyst being blown into a thousand pieces, I’m going to think of jokes about the situation I’m in. Here’s one: We’ve decided to freeze any leftover embryos we may have. I’m going to start knitting tiny scarves now so they won’t be too cold. Don’t forget to tip your waitress and try the fish!

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