Sunday, February 13, 2005

doing a number on myself

That FSH of 9.1 is sinking in.

I feel a little less than cavalier today and a little more....devastated.

It's so confusing to know what a good result is because if I'm not infertile, I'm fucked, but if I am infertile, I'm fucked too.

And I'm worrying about how much this is all going to cost. Last November, when she had her hand to her brow lamenting her Never To Be A Grandmother status, mum offered to pay for whatever it took me to produce an heir. Since then though, and I've told her about this, she hasn't said a word (not a one. Am I being too subjective or is that a tad...I'm searching for the right words here, bear with me, searching, searching...fucked up? Is it fucked up that my own mother isn't interested? Or is it fucked up that I thought she might be? Hmm...) about any of this.

And this is hard.

It's already hard and not even one month in. Then again most of it being hard is the unknown component, and that kind of hard is going to diminsh one more becomes known. So it won't get more hard, it will get different hard.

Guess what? I've been eating pumpkin and carrots and consequently, I'm yellow. It's magic! No, actually, it's not. I had you fooled for a bit though, didn't I? It's called hypercarotenemia and you usually don't get it unitl you eat a truck load of carrots, but I'm lacking in whatever enzyme it takes to covert betacarotene to vitamin A, so if I eat one carrot, or a serve of pumpkin, I change colour. That first link is a it of a piss off though, suffice to say, stupid muckinfruckin T3 (and yes, of course I have the damn thermometer in my mouth afrikkingain. And why yes, I am cooking some damn carrots right now. Shut up)

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