Thank you, Next.

I was tired of looking at my puffy eyes in the mirror. I had to stop feeling sorry for myself.

I was ready to go again. Ding ding, round two of Clomid and injectables.

I had plenty of medicine left over from the first round, so all I needed to do was pickup some more Clomid. I went in for my ultrasound, and yes, Mom was there, Duh! The nurse that brought us back was one I didn’t recognize. She wasn’t in a very good mood that morning. Mom and I were actually joking around about her ‘tude when she walked in with Dr. Skaf. Everything seemed pretty routine, that’s until he started to count. Then measure. I was at the beginning of a new cycle, there shouldn’t of been anything to count or measure at this time. That’s when he said, “you have corpus lutetium cysts.” I had a handful, and they were BIG. “We’re going to have to cancel this cycle, I’m sorry,” the doctor said. Then, it looked like he was about to get up and leave. “Sit back down! I have what? My cycle is what? Why? How? Did you know this could happen? How come no one explained this risk to us?” I didn’t even know at the time, but I was yelling.

Mom started to rub my back. She was trying to get me to calm down. That’s when I broke out in tears. Dr. Skaf apologized again. He said sometimes this happens. When the follicles are over stimulated they have a harder time dissipating on their own. When they linger, they turn into these corpus lutetium cysts, and there’s really not much you can do, but give them time to go away.

So thoooose were the sharp pains I felt on occasion. Silly me, I thought it was a pregnancy thing. I always think it’s a pregnancy thing, because I SHOULD BE F*CKING PREGNANT by now! I was told my cycle would be canceled for one to two months. It all depended on when the cysts would either shrink significantly in size, or go away. I didn’t want to hear anymore, and I certainly did NOT want to go through another round of those God awful injections. I told the doctor I wanted to move forward with IVF. I was angry! I felt like my time was wasted and we weren’t getting anywhere. I was reminded of the process. If we wanted to sincerely move forward with IVF we needed to setup another one of the next step consults. So we did.

I cried while Elyssa scheduled the appointment. She then came around the desk to hug me. She made me look at her and reassured me this was all going to work out in the end. I wanted so badly to believe her. She told me I needed to do anything and everything that made me happy. I needed to take more time out for myself. I needed to get massages, I need to give acupuncture another chance. I needed to do anything, but let this consume me, which is totally was.

The entire ride home my mom tried to rationalize with me. Explaining to me how expensive IVF would be out of pocket. None of it was what I wanted to hear. I wanted to scream. I doubted everyone and everything. I hated myself. I hated my broken body. I hated money. I kept asking God what I did to deserve this. I questioned his plan for me, and once again felt myself to start to crumble. “Don’t do this,” my Mom said. “You’ve come so far.” “For what?” I replied. My faith was shaken again. My strength was tested, my hope was crushed.

I closed my eyes and took myself back to that first day of North Carolina, and I immediately felt at peace. I apologized to my Mom, thanked her for being there for me, and told myself this was my rock bottom. It could only go up from here.

Stupid. Stupid girl.