Wednesday, July 14, 2010

You can't know.

I'm half way through the tww and I just can't know and it's driving me crazy. Or maybe it's the progesterone that is driving me crazy. I'd like to think the moodiness and heartburn and burps and stomach aches and cold sore like I haven't had since I was in the second grade (geez, don't I sound like someone you'd like to sit next to on a long plane ride) are all due to a miracle the size of a poppyseed making itself comfortable in my uterus. But I'm inclined to think it's just those evil vag pills.

Most of the time I can't decide if I want to scream at the person on the other end of the conference call or cry over a deoderant commercial. It's bad. I was just asking S the other night (I might have to live with these side effects, but she has to live with me living with these side effects, which, believe me, is worse), why is it that hormones make your sads and angries sadder and angrier, but they don't make your happies happier. Because that would be nice.

But I guess I can't know that either.

One week down, one week (and 13 more pills) to go.

I just turned down an awesome freelance job because it would require me to fly >20 hours each way when I'm either 9 weeks pregnant, 5 weeks pregnant, or still trying to get pregnant. This is a big deal for self-employed-over-acheiver me. And I think I want to cry. Or scream.

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