Yes, I have been peeing on sticks. Peeing and peeing and peeing. They have all been stark fucking white of course.
95% of the time I am okay, but I have had a few minutes of ugly crying as silently as possible in the bathroom.
Having the nieces means that I am:
A. Mostly wrapped up in actually living, as opposed to staring at posts where everybody got their BFP six days after their three day transfer.
B. Trying my damnedest not to fling myself onto the bed sobbing. I don't need to be pegged as the "crazy aunt"
I remember seeing one of those ecards (or whatever they are called -the ones that have the old fashioned people on them with some witty and/or stupid statement). This one had a lady laughing and said something like "You didn't really think IVF would work on the first try, did you?"
There are a few good stories out there, I know, but each day
sucks a little more hope. Not that I had a lot to begin with. I sort of
felt like this cycle was going to be a bust. I *expect* those white pee sticks every day. I mean, I couldn't possibly
be lucky enough to get a baby, could I? That would be too fucking simple.
I should stop writing about my pathetic negative feelings. It's making me cry and people keep walking into my office.
(Yes, I know I should also stop peeing on sticks, but let's face it. I'm in too deep now.)
In happier news, my SIL and FIL are both doing well after their surgery. (My SIL donated a kidney to my FIL last week, which is why we have our nieces.) They got out of the hospital yesterday and are supposed to spend a couple days at the hotel before they fly home Wednesday. We're bringing the girls back on Saturday.
For some reason I thought to put the girls in day camp last week, but not this week. I think I was thinking they were going back Wednesday. they both really liked day camp and it was great because it wore them out completely. We'd chill after I picked them up, then we'd eat dinner, take showers and they'd go to bed at 8:15 or so. Completely zonked out. This weekend we went to the park, the library, a play, and to get some braids.
The five year old told me last week "Grandma said not to let Aunt Io do our hair." Which is a good call. I can hardly handle combing my own hair, I definitely don't know what to do with their hair beyond teasing it out and making references to Angela Davis. But the eight year old went swimming at day camp without a cap on and her braids came loose. Irreparably so.
She had a couple days of poofs in ponytails, but it kept coming out on top and wasn't a very workable solution. So I asked a friend where to go and she sent me to an African hair braiding place dead in the middle of the ghetto. (I live in the ghetto, but in like the suburbs of the ghetto. There is a Starbucks and a hipster brewery about five minutes away. And people don't get shot quite as often.) It was really interesting to go into the hair braiding place (and shoe, clothing and incense store. They were diversified.)
Despite the fact that the women working there were talking about me (ladies, I may not speak your language, but I sure can tell if you keep glancing at me and gesturing towards me with your head) they were very nice, if frustrated that I couldn't tell them exactly what type of braids I wanted her to have. (I felt like an idiot for not having researched beforehand. It hadn't occurred to me they would want more direction than "Give her braids that will last at least a week and look appropriate on a child.") N ended up getting cornrows that sort of met where a ponytail would be. She was very happy.
This week, A took Monday-Wednesday off work, I am taking off Thursday and then on Friday they are going to go have a sleepover with A's younger brother, who also lives in Indy. Which is good, since that is beta day. And if it's a 0 I am going to need that night to be kid free.
Edit: I know it is quite possibly too early to get a second line. But rationality has never been my strong point.