Stick with me, gals. This is a little long winded (i.e. venting about hubs!) but I have GOT to get this out. Here goes.
Doc ordered 225 iu of Follistim for late this afternoon for one last “push” on those follicles (P.S. There were 12 measurable this AM on Day 10 ultrasound, and endo was 11.6 – yippee!!!).
Just before writing this, I gave myself 2 trigger shots: Lupron and HCG. And that’s that… 36 hours from now I’ll be, as I’ve grown fond of saying, laying my eggs. This brings us to Wednesday morning.
R has known “Wednesday” was the “probably” day for at least 3 days now. He has it in texts from me and we’ve had conversations about it. So imagine my utter hormonal chagrin when:
Me: We have to be there by 8:30 on Wednesday, so I’d like to leave around 6:45.
R: Wait, what day?
Me: Wednesday.
R: …oh… I thought it was Thursday.
Me: (Calmly) We had several conversations about Wednesday. Thursday has never even been mentioned. (Show him text that confirms Wednesday, with his response that says, “Got it!”)
R: I have to work a party and family night at the club. (He is a manager at a country club during the summer- he is obsessed with this job and this has been a point of contention in our relationship for years).
Me: …
R: I guess I’ll figure something out.
What??!? Doesn’t he mean, “Oh my god, I got all mixed up. I’m so sorry! Of course I will get my shifts covered so I can be there for you on the one day you have needed me during this whole process, which by the way, I think you are so strong and amazing for going through!” Isn’t that what he meant?!?
Cut to: I call my sister, RN, and she is off that day. She agrees without hesitation to come take care of me and the pup when R goes to work… And I bet she will even give me my progesterone shot in the butt without flinching, too.
But something doesn’t feel right. As much as I love my sister and am excited to spend time with her, I was still annoyed and seething that R didn’t want to be there for me. My god, I would take a week or more off of work to care for him if he needed it. I want the comfort of my husband, who, ya know, is supposed to be part of this process.
I can’t let it go, so a little while later I say, “Can I be honest? I really want you here with me on Wednesday. I’m trying to be reasonable and help you out by getting my sister over here, but that wasn’t what I had in mind.”
R: The procedure is first thing in the morning. I figured by 3:00, you’d —”
H: It’s one day.
R: (annoyed) OK, fine.
So now I “got what I wanted,” but not at all in the way I wanted it. Now I don’t even want him to stay home. I would much rather have my sister here.
Ladies, are my crazy hormones taking over? Am I back on the train to Crazy-Town? I don’t know what to do. Did I make a big deal out of nothing? Should I tell him forget it and go to work? I wish he would at least try to “get it” a little more, but I do feel like I’m going through this alone at times. I need to feel loved and calm and comforted. Now I just feel like a nuisance.
Making a Little 'a' 