I was working on a (relatively) lighthearted post this morning when I just stopped. I didn’t want to do it anymore. I didn’t want to do anything anymore.
Now, I’ve had my good days and plenty more bad days this cycle. I have felt like the lowest of the low. This was something different. I don’t know if I have ever felt this way before.
At first that was all it was, just ‘screw it, I’m going back to bed.’ But the more I think about it, that’s not even scratching the surface.
From early 2006, when I first stopped taking birth control, until late 2009, we weren’t ‘hardcore’ TTC. I got my PCOS diagnosis, but no one had suggested actually treating it. We were just kind of winging it, hoping in the backs of our minds to catch an egg somewhere along the way, or something like that.
For the past two years I have not taken a break, not even a week, not even two days to myself without thinking about this. Every day, every week, every month it has been do this, try this, take this, something will work.
That has not been fair to me.
Today I realized that I am trying to compensate for something that had nothing to do with me.
Today I realized that it’s not the end of the world if I say I can’t do this today. It’s not giving up. It’s not quitting.
It is taking care of myself so I can take care of either the child we may have or the relationship that we do have or both.
It is okay for me to say I need some time to get myself together. No one is going to beat me up about it like I’ve been beating myself up for the past two years. No one else will even come close.
I am important because I am me, not because I do or don’t ovulate. I am a person, not just my stupid ovaries (I’m mad at you guys right now, especially you, extra cysty lefty).
So I am going to take my thermometer, and my pee cup, and my pee sticks, and my tussin, and next month’s provera and I’m going to stick it all in a box and give it to my husband to hide because I am taking a break. So there.