I'm a hot mess. I'm not myself. I'm not ready to go totally
pubic public with our grand fertility plan...but please know ...I'm not Maggie. I'm crying one minute...I'm laughing the next. I feel like a teenage girl.
Last week we had an appointment with our fertility doctor, lets just say we got to know each other better than I cared to. After, Ben and I went to lunch and out of the blue I started sobbing to Ben...in front of the waiter..."My body doesn't even belong to me anymore! It belongs to the freaking U of U fertility Clinic!" Totally rational freak out, right? I crack up thinking about it now, but at the time I was so upset. I'm tired of get poked and prodded and looked at like I'm a science project. Just when I think my doctor and I cant get anymore personal, he asks those REALLY personal questions, like, “How often do you and your husband have sex?” It’s embarrassing, but I think the nurse hates that question more than me…For once I wasn’t the only one blushing.
I know that it’s going to all be worth it one day. But in the meantime I'm a psycho, vomiting, starving bitch with bad skin. I’m seriously waiting for the doorbell to ring to see a priest standing there holding a cross preparing to do an exorcism on me. Thank goodness for that patient husband of mine. Last night I was crying about how my skin looks like I'm 15 and how my hair is dull....you know being 100% insane. And what did Ben do? He was calm and loving and understanding...So what did I do? Oh you know, I yelled at him, and told him he was acting like an ass. Like I said, I'm not myself. So if you see me in public I would suggest you duck and run.