Mad

I am actually beyond mad. I just realized, that if my cycles do whatever FF expects them to do, my next tiny window for the hysteroscopy is... Thanksgiving!?F*&%# And the next one... Christmas!?@#%$&^**^( You can guess the rest. I went again on Wednesday to have my blood drawn for chromosomal testing. My arm is still sore and tender. And I couldn't even get the flu shot. Not that I want to, I would actually skip it altogether, and I won't get Little L one, but Dr S said it was not open to discussion. I told her I will get it if I can get before I'm pregnant, but that I won't, for anything, get it afterwards.
I had a revealing experience this weekend. I attended a workshop about Spanish feminine short stories, and while analyzing the texts I realized how much my life is focused on infertility right now. I see it everywhere. The funny thing was that my obsession led the well known author who was leading the workshop to talk to me at the end, and I managed to buy her lunch the day after, only to discover that she has also dealt with this kind of issues. Her advice? Stop it. Don't make yourself suffer anymore. Adopt. Not bad. At least she got me writing again, I think I have an idea for a short story book, and I already started. Let's see what happens. Of course, infertility is there. As it is everywhere else. I have nightmares. I have gained at least six pounds in the last three weeks. I'm anxious, all the time. I'm not smoking because I don't feel like it (weiiiiird). So I eat. All the time. Constantly. Salty, sweet, salty, sweet... It's disgusting. I want to stop. I had managed to lose some weight over the last months... Gaining it back in mere weeks doesn't seem like a good idea. I guess I need my therapist. A lot. Or a baby. But that will not happen in at least a couple of months. Sigh.