Not that I'm complaining

I've tried to write this post several times, but because I keep checking updates from fellow IF blogs before I start typing, I haven't felt able to go through with it. What do I have to complain about, honestly? It takes about five minutes of clicking around to find heartbreaking, awful stories from women who have lost their babies, whose cycles did not work, who are preparing for life without the children they so desperately want. And then there's me, trucking along just fine on my FET cycle, heading home each night to my healthy son and my loving husband, and I have the gall to start moaning about how terrible things are?

Yup. Brace yourself (or stop reading), because I am totally about to complain. But here's the thing! I don't complain to anyone in real life anymore. I don't talk about this cycle with my husband, my parents, my siblings, my friends, my coworkers. As far as they are concerned, there is no cycle happening, no attempt at another pregnancy, everything is just status quo. (I should clarify: my husband knows that this cycle is happening, but that's all. I do not discuss it with him.) It's my first time really experimenting with denial, and I have to say, it's going much better than I expected. A lack of sympathetic faces in my life means that I don't turn to them when things get tough. And if I don't have the option of getting any sympathy - if it simply doesn't exist - well, I find I don't need it as much as I thought I did. And then at least I can cling to that thought - as bad as it gets, as bad as it has been, at least I haven't burdened my loved ones with my inability to cope.

And what is there to cope with, really? Here's a brief summation of what's happened in the last few weeks:
- Right after my SHG, while I was on the antibiotics they prescribed, I got a yeast infection. I tried OTC remedies unsuccessfully for two days before finally procuring some prescription-only Diflucan (don't ask - let's just say that I managed not to hassle my OB or RE.)
- As the yeast infection was coming to an end, I started bleeding heavily. It lasted for three weeks and was similar to my post-partum bleeding, with clots the size of walnuts. I went through a staggering amount of feminine supplies. Another period? Just more irregular bleeding? Who knows!
- I started Lupron injections and got a headache that never really goes away.
- I had a monitoring ultrasound and bloodwork that looked good enough to move on to the next phase of my FET. The 4-cm cyst had gotten a bit smaller, from what I could tell anyway (the OB's office was under strict instructions not to interpret my results and wait for the RE to weigh in, but then all the RE said was to proceed, so I don't really know what's happening with that.)
- I started taking oral Estradiol and injecting myself with Lovenox, since I'm a clot risk after the DVT in 2012. The Lovenox has given me giant, painful bruises on my belly that I believe I have successfully concealed from everyone besides my husband - and even he didn't see them for the first few days, so artful was my dressing/undressing.

None of this is particularly terrible, but yeah, since we're complaining and everything, I will tell you that I've been doing my usual amount of sobbing behind dark glasses. I feel pretty decent about 90% of the time, it's just occasionally that the self-loathing takes over. I start feeling sorry for myself, and then I hate myself even more for wallowing in self-pity, and usually the cycle continues until something external breaks it. Which is often - I'm crazy busy with work, travel, and life in general. That pace is unlikely to slow down for at least another month, which ordinarily would feel daunting but these days is a very welcome distraction.

Next up: at least one more monitoring ultrasound coordinated through my OB's office, another two weeks on medication, and the transfer itself at my RE's office. I am trying to figure out how to casually bring up the topic of the transfer when my nurse calls me in a few days with next steps... for instance, I don't want to put my legs in the stirrups. Could they do the transfer with my feet flat on the table? And what about my RE himself, is it worth even bringing up whether it's possible to have someone else do it? I get the feeling that his embryo transfer technique is probably the best in the practice, and of course I don't want to have to go through this ever again so I want to do everything I can to achieve a pregnancy on the first try, but I am horrified at having to physically put myself in the same position that I was in for my egg retrieval. I don't know. Sometimes I feel angry and empowered, but sometimes I just feel so defeated - sure, go ahead, do whatever you want to my body, it's not like it's worth anything anyway.

And then... then, in December, I'll find out whether this worked. Either way I will have a whole new set of decisions and obsessions. I'll come back here and complain some more, so get psyched!