Just waiting, now.

Thank you, everyone, for your kind commiserations. It really does help.

I'm pretty okay. I talked with my RE last night, and he agreed that there was no real reason to keep taking the PIO. We'll be checking my hcg again on Friday; hopefully it will be going down on its own in a peaceable, orderly fashion. Hopefully then my progesterone will also fall; even though I'm no longer supplementing it, since I did ovulate my body is likely producing some on its own and I won't bleed until it shuts down production.

Last night, I:

1. Had a glass of wine;
2. Let myself use my laptop in my favorite position, with it balanced on my stomach otter-fashion;
3. Did not have a 1.5" needle jammed into my ass.

So the evening was not without its redeeming features. This morning, I had real coffee, with real caffeine.

I don't know. Three chemical pregnancies, one with a barely-there beta, two with decent enough but non-doubling betas. Once might be misfortune, but twice starts to look like carelessness. Chromosomal issues? Immune issues? Does it matter? Should I just keep slinging embryos in there and wait for one to stick? Obviously one did stick, three years ago.

I'm tired. I'm sad. I'm displeased that I have such a strong feeling of anger towards myself for being optimistic, for believing that dark line 4dp5dt, for typing information into a due-date calculator. Part of me says "Oh, really, you knew better than that. An old campaigner like you should know by now that two lines on a pee-stick do not necessarily equal a gurgling infant nine months later."

But... I don't want to be that person. I don't think there's anything particularly evolved about being cynical and pessimistic. Optimism is the more difficult path, and the better one. I should be proud that I managed to be so excited and happy. But I can't help looking back and wincing at myself, shouting back into time shut up shut up shut up close that browser window, girl, you're not going to need that mei tai.

Maybe it's my Jewish cultural conditioning, the idea that rejoicing about anything is like waving a red flag at the evil spirits and saying "come get me". Maybe it's an ugly streak of my psyche that snottily finds anything preferable to being a fool.