There is a little one sleeping in our nursery room right now.
She isn't our little one, but our goddaughter, over for a visit while her parents and siblings go to a movie. Even though she isn't ours, it makes my heart happy to have a child in that room.
I wasn't thrilled with the idea of having our "future nursery" as we call it turned into a temporary storage room. As the boxes piled up, and the room became crowded, it became more difficult envisioning a crib, a changing table, and a rocking chair by the window overseeing the cornfield, the view from that window being a strong reason why I choose it to house our future munchkin.
It has been almost 7 months, and no luck on falling pregnant. Lots of doctors appointments, stressing over missing work to schedule bloodwork, popping medication meant to adjust my body to prepare it for pregnancy, and miserable side effects of those medications have made things especially difficult.
Plus side? I've lost almost 25 pounds from that nausea/stomach upset due to the Metformin. And I am alert for work since I set my alarm an hour before I have to get up to take my thyroid medication (which must be taken 30-60 minutes before I eat breakfast).
Tomorrow, I'm seeing a reproductive endocrinologist. B/c my body insists on being lazy and refuses to give me a monthly cycle (which I haven't unassisted by medication since I was 15). B/c my endocrinologist was baffled that the cocktail of medication she gave me didn't restore my cycle, at the very least. B/c I'm about to lose my mind with no results.
I picked up a book called "A few good eggs" about infertility, and they said one of the last steps a person takes to get pregnant is seeing a RE. I remember reading that book all those months ago, and dreading, worrying, agonizing over the idea that I would ever have to resort to an RE for help, . I am terrified of injecting myself with hormones. I don't want to undergo the expense and pain of IVF and IUI. If it's necessary, I will, and I hate to sound snobby, but I don't want it to come to that.
One thing that has possibly affected my progress is that my anxiety disorder came back with a vengeance after being off the medication for 6 months. Now that I'm back on it, and feeling like my old self again, perhaps things will go back to normal?
I can only hope.
