Tomorrow is my birthday, and I have been viewing this with escalating levels of grumpiness for about a month now. This is odd, as my usual response to my birthday is to invite everyone I’ve ever met to come hang out with me somewhere fun, preferably green space ala picnics in the park. I like birthdays for their ability to get even your flaky friend to come out. To encourage all of your worlds to meet in one place, and to mark the passage of time and celebrate it.
I don’t feel like celebrating this year.
Last year, I was very newly engaged. I had two papers under review and one about to be submitted. I was secure in my sense of value at my job, and had many more nearby friends than the year before to help me usher in a new year.
The year before, I turned 30. We’d just moved to Hilly Quirky City. I was a very newly minted Ph.D. We celebrated sitting on the floor of our empty apartment, with champagne, one sister, and one old friend. We knew almost no one else in the city, and it was another seven days before our furniture arrived. It was a new adventure.
This year… has been a consolidation year, I think. No real new friends, just better, more meaningful friendships with the existing ones. No new papers, though this current one is finally starting to look like a paper and not a jumbled pile of thoughts. Set routines at home and at work, and steadily growing insecurity about my place in the lab (bred largely from my supervisor’s preference to keep her post-docs off-balance). Seven months of infertility treatments under my belt, and nothing much to show for it (four ovulations, two vaccines, and a not-ideal genetic test).
I know that deep down I never believed I’d be pregnant by now. Maybe the hopeful part of me did, and that is contributing to this blue funk. Certainly the increased age coming with a new calculation of odds for all the bad things that can happen in pregnancies is not helping. I really don’t think this is mostly about not being pregnant though. I think I am just missing some touchstone of progress in my life, and a pregnancy would have counted as one.
Lab book update: cd19 and there is some stirring in the deep. Scant mucous though, and, while stretchy, not a candle to what I am expecting. opks are, if anything, lighter each day. Temp bumped up into normal pre-o range, so I’m at a loss as to what is going on, though from all signs, it can’t be much.