The Perfect Symbol of My Mood

The estrogen pills are making me cranky. They're making me gain weight at the rate of about half a pound a day, which really makes me cranky, but somehow I tend to think that I'd still be feeling cranky even without that highly annoying side effect.

Unless the pills made me lose weight at the rate of half a pound a day. Then I would love them.

But they aren't, and I don't.

And to top it all off, they make my skin break out horribly. Clearly my hormone levels are now even more imbalanced than usual - how can this possibly be helpful for achieving a pregnancy?

So here I am, highly annoyed by everything going on in my world (I hide that fact well, don't I?), including pretty much everything that poor R says or does. Me on estrogen is almost as unpleasant as me on Clomid. But at least on estrogen I haven't locked him out of the bedroom. Yet.

Tomorrow morning I have to get up earlier than usual, to fight traffic earlier than usual, in order to go have a lining check to see if I'm on track for the endometrial biopsy. I usually have RE's office e-mail me the order so that I can print it out and take it with me, rather than having them fax it to local RE and risk the fax getting lost or misplaced.

Being the model of efficiency, I printed out the order a few days ago. It's been sitting on the dining room table (aka the dumping grounds where my purse, piles of mail, etc. reside). So this morning I come downstairs and discover that the printed order is covered in cat hairball puke.

Pretty much sums up how I feel about the whole thing at the moment.

Lest you think I am completely without humor, I have thought of another addition to the "You Know You're an Infertility Patient When..." list: ...va.gi.nal discharge the color of a smurf is a completely expected occurance that doesn't phase you in the least.